The First
by Skoozyy
Summary: The milestone events in Ritsu and Mitsuru's relationship. COMPLETE.
1. Meeting

**'kay, this is Ritsu/Mitsuru (who I blatantly don't think have enough ficcage). Each chapter is going to be about a milestone event in their relationship (gah, I can't explain things) Oh, & the Japanese honorifics, I'm pretty sure I've messed them up. I was going to miss them out, but then I thought, what the hell, and looked them up on Wiki and had a go. But any advice and help would be good! I'm happy to take criticism on this part. I don't like it much either :( but this is my third attempt at their meeting, and I can't keep twiddling it forever. Thankies for reading.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fruits Basket. Nope. Sad, innit :(**

**The First... **_Meeting_

Tohru-san leads the way back to Shigure-san's house. I clutch tightly to the bag of takoyaki, not daring to even think how awful it would be if I dropped it on the dirty ground. I almost bump into Tohru, who has suddenly stopped walking.

"Mitchan-san?" She asks, her voice sounding questioning. I have to lean to the side to get a view of who she is looking at. A young woman is kneeling, trembling, on Shigure-san's doorstep, loudly dictating the note she is writing. I gasp as I hear her words, it sounds like a suicide note. Tears are pouring down her face and I can't help but feel awful for the woman, even without knowing her trouble.

Suddenly, a jovial Shigure-san appears behind her, waving cheerfully at Tohru-san and myself.

"Did you get my takoyaki?" He asks, but before I get a chance to answer, Mitchan-san's tears turn into anger. Her words are quite hard to distinguish from each other in her hysterical state, but I think I hear 'manuscript' repeated shrilly several times.

Shigure-san goes slowly into the house, his face looking calm and serene despite the woman's obvious panic. He raises a piece of takoyaki up to his mouth, and says: "The manuscript? What makes you think I possibly have it finished? A certain someone named Ritsu showed up and kept me from my writing."

Mitchan-san and I gasp in unison. I feel utter guilt at taking up Shigure-san's precious time, and thus being the one ultimately resposible for Mitchan-san's upset and desperation. I'm not even sure who to apologize to first. Mitchan-san makes the decision for me though, as she immediately goes on a hysterical rant about his writing. She couldn't hear me over the noise she is making at Shigure-san for his manscript, even if I tried to apologize to her, and I just feel guiltier and guiltier.

I apologize to Shigure-san, trying to get him to hear me over Mitchan-san. Then I hear Mitchan-san say something about having to drop the story. I could possibly have just wrecked poor Shigure-san's career with my shamelessness, then a thought strikes me. "Please write with takoyaki power!" I beg of him.

Mitchan-san stopped mid-hysteric as I say this, and I, suprised by the sudden silence, hesitate too, long enough for her to lock eyes with me. "Tako..."

"...Yaki." she finishes for me. The tears still glisten in her eyes, and I can feel my cheeks are still damp when she asks me what 'takoyaki power' is. I explain to her, as Shigure-san did to me earlier, about how a bite of takoyaki, and he turns into a great warrior. She's silent for a moment, looking down towards the floor, as if taking it in, then her brain seems to click back to the job in hand.

"Oh yeah! Sensei, the manuscript!" She says, panic setting back into her voice, which knocks my alarm bells ringing again.

"That's right, Nii-san, the manuscipt! The manuscript!" I join in with Mitchan-san. Shigure sighs, and signals for Mitchan-san to follow him into his office.

I pause to exhale, a slight sense of relief setting in, and I can feel my erratic heartbeat returning somewhat back to normal. I turn to a rather bemused looking Tohru-san. "Um, Tohru-san, I had better go, I think.."

"Oh!" Tohru-san says, waving her hands frantically, "You don't need to do that! We love having you here, don't feel you have to go-"

"No, thank you so much, for everything, Tohru-kun." I bow slightly, "I must go back to my mother, though, she'll be getting nervous if she doesn't see me soon."

Tohru smiles at me warmly. " Of course, but please, come back soon, please?"

I smile back slightly, and nod, feeling my cheeks redden, not used to people being as kind as Tohru-san.

Walking away from Shigure-san's house, I feel I have got slightly closer to my dream of being like Ayame-san. With Tohru-san's help, I think my confidence has grown, grown just a little bit. I, like kind Tohru-san, would dearly love to find my reason for being alive in someone else. Someone who would want to eat takoyaki with me more than with anyone else.

I reach the road a short distance away from Shigure-san's house, feeling slightly happier than I have done in a long time. The sun is shining, and I raise my head slightly, to admire the pure clouds in the sky. It's only when I hear the shuffle of paper underfoot, that I once again glance down. Mitchan-san is kneeling, tears in her eyes, papers scattered all around her.

"Mitchan-san?" I ask, alarmed, "Are you alright?"

Her head turns pitifully to face me. Her cheeks are red. "I-I tripped, a-and the manuscript..." She extends her hand slightly, indicating the scattered papers.

"Oh, oh no!" I gasp, "Are you hurt?" I lean towards her slightly, my eyes desperately searching for obvious injuries.

"H-hurt?" She sniffs sadly as if the thought had never occured to her. "The manuscript..." She repeats again.

I instantly start picking up sheets, careful not to miss any.

"What if I've lost some?" She wails,"Or if it's too dirty to read?" New tears leak down her cheeks, and she brushes them weakly away. "I-I've failed. They'll drop the story. They'll think I'm a b-bad editor."

"N-n-no! They won't think that! Of course they won't! And, and, you can still read all the sheets, they're hardly dirty at all, look!"

I put the wad of paper into one of her hands which is resting limply on her lap.

"No, no I can't look. I-I don't know what to do. Sensei w-won't write it out again, t-this was the only copy, and I r-r-ruined it."

"M-Mitchan-san, please, please look, it's alright, not damaged at all." She sniffs bravely, and I see her fingers close around the manuscript slightly. I glance around for more pages, as she slowly scans the words. There doesn't appear to be any more, and I turn back to her just in time to see her smile slightly, and I feel compelled to do the same.

"T-thank you." She says, looking up from the papers, and smiling more bravely at me. I feel undeserving of such warm gratitude. She lets out a small sound which just could have been a laugh. "M-maybe I overreacted, j-just a little bit."

She stands up slowly, on slightly wobbly legs, and I follow her lead. She's clutching the papers tightly under one arm as she starts walking down the road. She looks back, and seeing I'm not following, asks: "Are you not going this way?"

I nod hesitantly, realising she's inviting me to walk alongside her. I feel she's being too kind to a person like me, but I shamelessly take a few strides to catch up with her.

"Y-you never even told me your name..." She prompts.

"Uh, it's Ritsu, eh, Sohma."

She face seems to noticeably darken. "Y-you're a relative... a relative of... of HIM."

"Um, yes, uh, I'm sorry, I should have told you sooner." I say quietly.

"I'm Mitsuru." She says quietly. She doesn't seem to know what to say for the next couple of minutes, and we keep walking in silence, approaching the crossroads where I believe our paths may split. "You don't seem like him..." She starts, "You seem a kind, um," She pauses for a second, "man?"

It almost sounds like a question.

"Oh!" I say, blushing crimson.

She glances over at me. "Are you alright?" She asks.

I nod meekly, ever fibre of my being telling me to deny it, and tell her that I'm not worthy of her kindess and admiration.

We come to the crossroads, and we stop, I stare at my feet, not sure I can face her.

"Maybe I'll see you, see you again soon?" She asks politely, "Maybe we might bump into each other at HIS house again." She almost growls at the thought of Shigure.

"Mmm," I say, non-commitally.

"Okay, well, maybe see you then, then." She smiles slightly, "Thanks again." She turns to go, and I, too, turn in the opposite direction. "Um, Sohma-san..." She turns back, and I look back over my shoulder questioningly.

"Is it right that you have a relative, one who makes garments for, well, special occasions?"

"Ayame-sama?" I ask, "Y-yes, he owns a shop."

"Oh, it's just that Sensei was saying something about it once, and I have a friend who's getting married soon, and I have n-nothing to wear for the wedding." Her cheeks had a pink tint to them. "I don't suppose you could show me the way there, some time?" She sees my face, reads it as shock, and quickly backtracks, "But if not, that's fine! It's just I don't really know around here very well! I've only ever been in this area to visit Sensei's house, but I'm sorry, I was too forward and rude-"

"Um, I don't mind, showing you the way, maybe, if you'd like..."

She smiles, relieved, though her forhead still has a couple of light worry lines. "Maybe this w-weekend you could take me?" She asks, " We could meet outside Sensei's house?"

I nod slightly numbly.

"Thank you, Sohma-san, thank you very much!" She smiles, and turns, "Saturday at eleven, maybe?"

"Yes, yes, Um, I'll see you then Mitsuru-san."

She waves, and I wave limply back. Now what?


	2. Date

**I'm really unhappy with how this fic is shaping up. I just don't seem to be able to write the pairing, which is a shame 'cos they're one of my favourites. Still, I really want to see this through anyway, now I've started. This chapter I dislike for so many reasons, and I've spent a while trying to come up with something better, but alas, I'm uninspired. Sorry for general tedious-ness. Maybe the next one will be better? (I hope so...) If you're reading this fic, thank you! & if you review, thank you, too! Even flames are okay ;P **

**Disclaimer: You know the drill. I don't own Fruits Basket. A very talented lady all the way over in Japan does.**

_The First: _**Date**

Ritsu showed up a few minutes early outside of Shigure's house. He was feeling slightly queasy with nerves. He wasn't sure how he had got himself into this. His whole mind was telling him that it wasn't a good idea. What if he got them lost? What if Mitsuru-san got hurt when he was meant to be looking after her? What would he do then? If it wouldn't have been so unforgivably rude, he would have just run away, escaped from the whole predicament. He scolded himself for this thought. How sickeningly selfish a person he was.

Mitsuru-san didn't reach Shigure's house until five minutes after the designated time. This surprised Ritsu slightly, he assumed that she would always be prompt and punctual, like she obviously desperately wanted Shigure-san to be. He quickly reminded himself not to mention anything about Shigure-san. It seemed to upset and anger her.

"Uh, hello, Mitsuru-san." He bowed in greeting, and she returned it.

"Ritsu-san, hello! Thank you again for helping me with this. I hope I'm not wasting too much of your time?" She meant it as a throw-away comment, but Ritsu instantly went onto red alert.

"Y-you? Waste my time? N-n-no! Not at all. I-I'm truly honoured that you, someone as important as an, as an editor, would ask for someone as pitiful as myself to help!" He bowed to her again, his face flushed, and beads of sweat were starting to form. Not surprising, Mitsuru thought to herself. He was wearing a thin white cotton shirt, but around his shoulders he had draped some kind of thick floral feminine shawl.

"Umm, shall we set off?" Mitsuru interrupted his panicking; worried Ritsu might erupt if they didn't.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry!" He started walking quickly away from Shigure's house; Mitsuru was already getting slightly out of breath trying to keep up with him.

"I really appreciate your help, Ritsu-san." She panted slightly "You're a very kind person." She hoped that if he heard how far behind she seemed to be, he might slow down and wait for her to catch up. It worked, as he stopped in his tracks, as if astounded that a compliment would ever be directed at him. "You're not like THAT relative, at all." She continued, really quite liking the rather sweet bemused look written so blatantly over his rather feminine features.

Ritsu seemed rather shell-shocked for quite a while afterwards, and Mitsuru was starting to worry for his safety when they reached a busy main road, and he seemed like he was just about to step straight into the traffic. Part of her wanted to reach out quickly, and pull him back by his elbow, but she had a feeling that the physical contact would just make him panic, and he would have even less grasp on rational thought, and therefore, would probably put himself into even more danger.

Instead she made do with a quick "Careful."

This seemed to click him back to the real world. He seemed to notice his surroundings. He pulled himself back, further away from the road, now actually looking to see if there were oncoming cars.

When there was a clear road, the pair made across, and Ritsu led them through a small opening in the hedge on the other side. They made their way down a small alley, sunlight streaming through the spaces between in the leaves which were a beautiful emerald green. As Mitsuru walked past a particular bush, she caught her hand on one of the prickly leaves.

"Ah!" she gasped under her breath, a small red mark forming on the base of her thumb.

Ritsu turned around frantically.

"What? Mitsuru-san? Are you alright? Have you hurt yourself?"

"Scratched myself." She said, moving her eyes away from examining her wound, and looked up at his panic-stricken face.

"Oh, no! How stupid of me! I didn't think twice about taking the short-cut down this hazardous alley-way! Mitsuru-san, please, I'm so sorry! I know it's not enough, I'm so sorry, I wish I had never agreed to take you, I should have known I would do nothing but cause you harm, and-"

"You wish you hadn't brought me?" She questioned, not entirely sure how to take the remark.

Ritsu had seemed like he was going to go into a full-blown apology ceremony, but her slightly prickly question stunned him into a second of silence.

"N-n-no! I'm very, very honoured that you chose me to guide you to Ayame-niisan's shop. I just think, I think that I shouldn't have misled you-"

"How exactly have you misled me, Ritsu-san?" She asked, folding her arms across her chest, getting slightly irritated that she couldn't follow Ritsu's logic at all.

"I-I gave you the impression, the impression that I could guide you safely to the shop, but I haven't. I haven't at all. I'm so sorry, Mitsuru-san." She could see the tears building up in his eyes, and she felt her heart tug for him. He was such a ridiculously kind and sweet man. If only he weren't so self-deprecating.

"Ritsu-san, please, please don't cry." She unfolded her arms, and took a more relaxed, approachable posture, as she placed a hand gently onto Ritsu's forearm. He flinched away from her, as if in shock, and she let her arm fall and hang loosely by her side.

"I am very pleased you are showing me the way, and I only hurt myself because I wasn't looking where I was going." She smiled reassuringly at him. "To show my gratitude to you for all your help, maybe we could go to a café after we have visited this shop? I could buy us lunch and-"

His sad eyes found hers.

"I-I'm sorry, Mitsuru-san, that you would waste such a kind offer on someone as undeserving as myself. It's just that I-I have a class at college, this afternoon." He looked distraught, so much so that he wasn't even apologizing.

She smiled though, trying to get across that she wasn't upset by his rejection.

"Some other time then." She said in her best, and usually unused, cheerful voice. He nodded slowly, staring down at his feet, which were encased in traditional sandals.

"Ayame-niisan's shop is this way." He said slowly, leading her out of the alley, and down a couple more side roads. They were silent until they reached the high street, Mitsuru was required to take long strides just to keep up with her delicate looking companion.

"It's just down here." He said, taking her past a long parade of shops, not really giving her a chance to have a good look at the beautiful clothing in some of the shop windows, as she would have done if she had been on her own. She really wouldn't have minded getting the outfit for her friend's wedding in any of the wonderful looking clothes shops, but she had already made the commitment that she would have a look in Ritsu's relative's shop, and it would seem rude to back out of the plan now.

"H-here we are." Ritsu said from his place a few strides ahead. He had stopped outside an exquisitely decorated shop. Mitsuru quickly stepped forward so she was standing by his side. The name "Ayame" was painted in fancy characters on the sign, surrounded tastefully by flowers.

Mitsuru pushed the door, which made a delicate_ ting _as she stepped inside. She turned, and was surprised to see Ritsu still standing outside.

"Are, are you not coming in?" She asked, hesitantly.

"I-I thought I would wait here, s-so that you can have your own time to choose an outfit. I-I wouldn't want to burden you."

"Oh... It's just, sorry, I just assumed you'd be coming in, but if you don't want to... You'll get cold standing out there." The weather had turned a bit since they had started their journey, and his shawl was unlikely to be enough protection from the bitter wind that was whipping up. "And I thought, just maybe, you could introduce me to-"

She was cut off.

"Why, Ritchan! How charming to see you! It has been far too long!" A male voice called from just behind her in the shop. She snapped her head around to face him, and stumbled back a few steps, back onto the pavement. The man was slender, and had flowing silver hair. He was wearing a luxurious purple coat. Altogether, he could be described as nothing but beautiful.

"A-Ayame-niisan!" Ritsu exclaimed, he too seemed a little shocked by the man's sudden, and rather loud, arrival. The man's amber eyes shifted away from the admiring Ritsu, focussing instead on the young woman cowering slightly in his doorway. "And you... Why of course, you must be dear Ritchan's Juliet!"

"Um, ah, Juliet?" Mitsuru repeated, trying desperately to get some grasp on the words flowing so gracefully from Ayame-san's mouth.

"But of course, it would be but a rarity for someone such as yourself to be acquainted with any piece of the most gracious love story ever told."

Mitsuru wasn't sure how to interpret the meaning of his words, and instead backed away from him slightly. She felt her back collide with something solid, she turned her head around and saw she had almost walked into Ritsu. He had, by the looks of it, only just put his hands out in front of him in time to prevent her falling right into him.

"Ah, Ritsu-san, sorr-"

"Oh, no! No! I'm so sorry, Mitsuru-san, I was so clumsy, forgive me for this unspeakable crime! I'm so sorry! I almost walked into you, and I touched you without your permission! I'm so sorry!"

"Uh, it's fine." She tried to reassure him, "No harm done."

He looked ready to start on another spiel of apologies, when he was cut off by Ayame.

"I am sorry to be the most rude host, and usually I would never let myself have such an unattractive ill-manner, but I, as I am sure you, Ritchan, are already very much aware, I am very sensitive to cold, and the draft coming from this door while you two have a lover's squabble is really most atrocious, and I must insist that you either come inside and look at my most glorious wares, or perhaps you will let me close the door and go back to the warmth whilst you two kiss and make up?"

"Oh, Ayame-niisan! I'm so sorry! I was so thoughtless! Never once thinking about your dislike of cold weather, I'm so sorry! If you were to become sick! And, and you are under a misapprehension, me and Mitsuru-san, w-we are not lovers! No, n-not at all! Acquaintances! Your chest could be - I was honoured to be asked to bring her - Shigure-niisan mentioned to Mitsuru-san in passing about- we should call Hatori-san!" His thoughts seemed jumbled, and he wasn't really making much sense.

"M-maybe we should go in?" Mitsuru suggested, though she really didn't want to, she could only see things with Ritsu escalating if she declined even going into the shop.

"Ah!" Ayame said triumphantly, opening the shop door wider to let a red-faced Mitsuru, leading a pale Ritsu by the elbow, into his shop.

"So you are indeed looking for one of my marvellous creations." He led them past the rows of fabrics, and into a back room, where there were many dresses and the like being displayed on mannequins, some of them, by the looks of it, still works in progress.

"I must say - Mitsuru-san, is it? - Yes, I'm rather relieved that Ritchan has come here with you today. I was getting rather concerned about his male instincts to be quite honest. There were times when I started wondering whether he had any fantasies at all. And of course, the cross-dressing didn't help ease my fears at all."

Fantasies? Cross-dressing? Mitsuru-san questioned in her head, feeling altogether quite bemused by the man who was Ayame.

"Um, um, no Ayame-niisan, it's, it's not for me." Ritsu stuttered. "Mitsuru-san is looking for an outfit for her friends wedding, and, uh, we thought maybe you might have something suitable?"

Ayame sat himself down in a velvet regal looking armchair, a small smile was playing on his lips.

"Mine!" He called, "Mine, we have a new customer for you!"

A young woman almost instantly entered the room, it seemed she had been waiting obediently on the other side of the door.

She skipped to Ayame's side, and turned to look at Mitsuru.

"The girl?" She asked.

"Yes, that's right. Mitsuru-san here – Shigure's editor did you know? – is looking for an outfit for her friend's wedding." He turned his head so he was square on looking at Mitsuru-san. His intense yet playful gaze was making her feel very uncomfortable.

"I was thinking," He started, looking at Mitsuru but still speaking to Mine, "something casual yet… provocative."

Mitsuru could hear Ritsu gasp from behind her, and she could just imagine how red he would be. She was fairly sure she resembled a tomato herself.

"Maybe… with her complexion… pale blue perhaps?" Mine said, bringing a thoughtful finger to her lips.

"Ah, but such a dreary colour for a wedding, and it may just wash her out completely."

"That's true."

"How about-"

"Purple-"

"But then it'd have to-"

"Her neck could look thinner-"

"V-neck is far more-"

"Ah! I think I know the outfit you have in mind, boss!"

"Precisely." Ayame and Mine shared a secretive smile.

Mitsuru was a little taken aback by the pair's whole conversation. They seemed to have a language just the two of them could understand. Mitsuru felt that was the kind of romance that Shigure's novels always lacked.

Mine went out of the room, apparently to a store cupboard. Ayame said nothing, he was just grinning whilst eyeing Mitsuru up and down. She shifted on her feet, wishing he would turn his attention to the nervous Ritsu behind her. She could hear every time he breathed, he was taking quick gasps of air, as if the pressure had become too much and he was about to hyperventilate. Maybe he always got like that in front of Ayame-san, Mitsuru thought. She too felt very nervous.

Mine returned only a couple of silence-filled minutes later, grasping a bag which would usually be used to carry dry cleaning.

"Here you go!" She said cheerfully, handing it to Mitsuru, "Go behind that curtain and try it on, see what you think. I think you'll look adorable!"

Mitsuru stumbled over to behind the curtain which Mine had indicated to her, she glanced back over her shoulder at Ritsu. She could see he was shaking slightly, and already Mine seemed to be taking him in, as if trying to think up an outfit suitable for him as well.

Behind the curtain there was a great army of even more mannequins, some of them clothed, some of them still awaiting outfits. Mitsuru pulled the plastic casing off the package she was holding. She was almost too frightened to look. Having seen the other examples of Ayame and Mine's work, she as expecting it to be a short maid's dress or nurse's uniform or something of that sort, but she was pleasantly surprised.

It was just a very simple, straight lilac dress, the only decoration were pearls creating an almost sewn-on necklace effect around the collar. It was very pretty, and surprisingly simplistic.

Mitsuru stripped down, and pulled the dress slightly roughly over her head. She had a look at herself in the full-length mirror. She couldn't help but be pleased by the overall effect.

"How is it?" Mine called from the other side of the curtain. She sounded slightly impatient.

"I-it's very nice." Mitsuru called back, stammering slightly, "I would very much like to buy it."

Mine slipped past the curtain to take a look.

"Wonderful." She said, sounding pleased, "It looks very good! Why don't you come on out and let your boyfriend have a look?"

"R-Ritsu-san, you mean? Uh, uh, no, he's not. He's not my boyfriend. Definitely not." Mitsuru said, colouring slightly.

"Oh," Mine said, her expression not changing from the pleasant smile she was wearing. "Well then, maybe you would like to change back, and bring the dress back through with you. I'm sure you'll look very beautiful for the wedding." She giggled happily as she left Mitsuru to get back into her own clothes, and fold the dress up carefully.

"I hear you are content with it?" Ayame asked as soon as she came back into the main room. Mine was standing by his side, and Ritsu was sat on the very edge of the sofa opposite. "Of course, I'm not in the slightest bit surprised. You, after being dear Shigure-san's editor for so long, obviously have a hawk-like eye for astounding quality."

"Uh, yes, Ayame-san. Thank you so much. It's, it's perfect."

"Mine, would you mind going back to the store cupboard, please? Get the-"

"The matching one-"

"I was thinking perhaps-"

"The blue, so he will blend with-"

"Yes, exactly, so they won't look like they are performing some kind of double act. Thank you, Mine."

The assistant scuttled off.

"Um, I'm not sure I understand." Mitsuru said, her brow quizzical as she sat down next to Ritsu on the sofa. He seemed to relax slightly beside her, perhaps because he was no longer on his own, and the sole attention of his relative had been diverted.

"There is a suit for dear Ritchan here which I think would go absolutely marvellously. You will both most definitely outshine the bride and groom at the wedding, unless they decide to buy their apparel here also-"

Mitsuru realized the conclusion Ayame seemed to have jumped to, and was about to explain that Ritsu wasn't going to the wedding, but she didn't even have a chance to open her mouth before Ritsu cut her off.

"Oh, Ayame-niisan! I'm so sorry, I've mislead you! Mitsuru-san came here today to buy an outfit solely for herself, I was just showing her the way to your marvellous shop, but I didn't explain, and now poor Mine-san has gone to all the trouble to go to the storeroom for an outfit for myself, when in fact, I was not invited to the wedding at all-"

Mine's re-entrance into the room quietened him for a moment. She had brought in the pale blue, almost grey-ish suit, without the covering the dress had had. Mitsuru had to admit, it was very beautiful.

"Alas, fair Mine," Ayame said, standing up gracefully, "We have been misled. Our dear Ritchan is indeed not attending the wedding as we were previously led to believe. You have wasted your precious time and energy going to fetch a suit that shall never be worn. We have spent hours of our lives, hours we shall never get back, sewing this suit. Sacrificing our own sweat and blood, and yet it is to be thrown away into a pile that could only be described as rejection."

Ritsu looked like he was going to cry.

"I-I-I'm so sorry! So sorry to both of you! I never should have come; I am a blemish on the otherwise flawless earth! I should just-"

"Would you like to come, Ritsu-san?" Mitsuru asked quietly, wanting Ritsu to calm down, as his energetic apologizing was shaking the sofa, and she had always had a bit of a problem with motion sickness. "The invitation said it was for myself and a guest. I was going to go on my own, but to have someone with me would be nice, too."

Ritsu turned his head slightly to face her, tears lingering in his large grey eyes. "I-I-I couldn't! I couldn't intrude like that. I surely couldn't."

"You wouldn't be intruding, I'm inviting you." Mitsuru stood up, and gently took the suit from Mine. She handed it to Ritsu.

"We'll take both, please."


	3. Discovery

**Sorry I've been so long updating this fic. Inspiration struck me and I wrote this in a fairly short space of time (for me, anyway)Thanks to all my reviewers, and fellow Ritsu/Mitsuru shippers (I'm hoping other shippers will take heed and FILL to bursting with R/M fic :D) Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket. If I did, there would be an entire volume devoted to this pairing (they deserve it, dammit!)**

* * *

The First... Discovery

Mitsuru put the phone back down with a click, her head hanging dejectedly. What had she expected? Was it any surprise that Shigure-sensei was going to prove a tough opponent to trap and reel in, so that his annual progress meeting could be held? Of course, as always, she'd been hoping beyond hope that he'd be kind to her, show her a little human consideration. But as always, this was not the case. What did he care about her blood pressure?

"Mitsuru." Her stern boss strode into her office without knocking on the door, as usual. She had been working for this publishing firm for years, yet she still had not won the respect of her boss. Maybe he had seen her break down at Shigure-sensei's teasing too many times to take her seriously as a professional. "Mitsuru." He repeated again, a deep frown on his forehead, "I've just been looking through Sohma-sensei's latest manuscript. It's inspired, as usual."

If anything, this was the single worst trait of Sohma Shigure. His writing was spell-binding. When she had the manuscript finished in her hands, there was very little she could do to it to make it any more ready to be published. He was extremely talented, and everyone in her department knew it. They could not see why she disliked, no, _loathed_ the man so much when the work that he handed in was always utterly flawless. Of course, none of them had ever had to be the one to wrestle the said manuscripts from his sly and spiteful grasp. They had no idea what she went through at every single deadline, and how she had been suffering this way for over two years. She was sure that once day she'd just collapse with an irreparable nervous breakdown.

"Thank you." She said, trying to keep her hatred of the author out of her voice, so she could answer politely. "I thought it was a very interesting plot. Somewhat different from his usual style."

"Indeed. But his fans, they'll lap it up, they always do. If all goes well, we'll have it in print in the next couple of weeks."

"Good." She'd only just managed to get the manuscript from him this time. Three whole days it'd taken her before he'd finally relented. She'd had to camp outside his front door one night in a flimsy tent.

"I can't see that there's anything else for you to do here today. You might as well get off early. Do make sure you get a confirmation from Sohma-sensei about his progress meeting before the end of the week, though. I'd like to be there for that."

She nodded, and hoped the expression on her face was a smile. The boss seemed satisfied, and left her office in much the same manner as he'd came.

***

The fruity smell of the bath foam filled her senses as she let the steaming hot water envelope her. Laying back in the bath, her muscles were still tense. In fact, she could barely remember back to when she hadn't been permanently on edge. The last time had probably been the moment before Shigure-sensei had strolled into her office for the first time. She immediately shook her head, trying to cast away the memory. She'd told herself she wasn't going to think about _that man_ all weekend. She'd earned a stress free couple of days at the very least.

She inhaled, and then exhaled slowly, a technique had grandmother had shown her to reduce anxiety and stress. Even when she was a child, she had had a rather fretful disposition, but nothing compared to what… that person, had made of her now. How she loathed him.

The therapeutic breathing slowly but surely relaxed her slightly, and she was just at the point of thinking how nice a glass of red wine would taste at that moment, when a ring at her doorbell roused her from her almost relaxed state. Her first reaction was to leave it. She couldn't imagine it was anything important. It rang again. And again. She sighed, raising herself out of the water, pulling the plug, towelling herself down and pulling on her oldest and comfiest pyjamas, which she had laid out on the radiator to make them especially cosy and inviting.

She had half expected, after the time she had taken to make herself anywhere near presentable to answer the door, that the unknown person would have given up and gone home. She was slightly surprised when she doorbell rang once again.

"Oh! Ah, hello, Mitsuru-san!" Mitsuru took an unconscious step back from the door she had just opened. A beautiful person with ginger brown hair, tied back with a bow, stood on her doorstep, upper body inclined in a slight bow.

"Ritsu?!" She said, not sure what surprised her more: that Ritsu, possibly the single most unimpulsive person she knew, had arrived completely unannounced at her house late in the evening, or that his usual attire of a pretty and feminine furisode was replaced by a neat white shirt and black trousers.

"Mitsuru," He looked up at her, "I'm so sorry for calling so late, and without once giving you notice of my coming, and I know you didn't invite me, and I'm very sorry, but I just had to come!" He gushed. Rather than looking horrified with himself, as he usually did as he apologized, he had a smile on his face that Mitsuru was sure illuminated the entire area around him. It was so lovely when he smiled, something she'd only had the pleasure of seeing a handful of times.

"No, it's good to see you, come in." She stepped back to allow him admittance into her apartment. He stepped in, and went through to her small sitting room, knowing the route well. She closed the door, and followed him.

"What brings you here?" She asked, indicating for him to sit down on the single sofa occupying a good percentage of the room. She sat herself next to him, becoming acutely aware that she was wearing a pair of grey, fuzzy pyjamas that couldn't be described as attractive by anybody's standards. It didn't seem that Ritsu had noticed, he seemed to be almost literally buzzing, as if there was something he just could not wait to tell her.

"Oh, I'm not keeping you from anything, am I? If it's a very bad time, I can come back whenever's convenient-"

"No, no, it's fine." Although she was tired, she couldn't help but he slightly touched that whatever he had to say, he couldn't even wait until morning to tell her. "What is it?"

He was staring at her, his eyes shining with delight.

"Well, this evening, I had a meal with my parents." He paused, as if to keep himself from becoming too visibly excited. "It was to discuss the… future of the onsen."

"Yes?" Mitsuru prompted, smiling, she could see where this was going, and also why he was having trouble even keeping still in his excitement. As they'd become closer friends over the months, he'd revealed more and more about his home life – how his parents always apologized for him, how he never matched up to what he felt they deserved in a son, how the future of the onsen was so uncertain, who was going to run it when his parents retired was very much a matter still up in the air.

"Well," Ritsu was actually _grinning_ by now. "Tonight, it was decided that I am going to be the person to inherit the inn, and take over its management when my parents can no longer do the job." He was smiling like it was a miracle. Mitsuru knew differently. She had only met Ritsu's mother on one occasion, but in fact it seemed she had a lot more faith in him that Ritsu believed. Mitsuru had rarely seen any mother who loved their son quite so deeply and sincerely. She knew she would never hurt him in such a way as to refuse him the onsen. Still, she was extremely happy, feeling her own heart rise a little along with him.

"That's such good news!" She said, smiling, and leaning towards him to pull him into a quick, friendly hug. In a second, the mood changed drastically. Ritsu almost literally leaped away from her, off the sofa, into the centre of the room, as if her touch would have scolded his skin. He looked shaken, and searched her face rapidly, as if trying to estimate just how deeply his actions had hurt her. She didn't know quite what to say and do. The atmosphere between her and Ritsu had never before been awkward, they'd always got on so well, they were in synch with each other, which was exactly what had endeared her to him in the first place. She wasn't sure what the rational reaction to what had just happened was. She was fairly sure it wasn't the sharp and stinging hurt that seem to have taken up residence in her chest.

"I'm sorry," He bowed slightly, a few loose strands of hair falling across his face. He was blushing visibly. "May I just, uh, use your bathroom?"

She nodded silent consent. He disappeared from view, and she was shocked with herself to feel her eyes were growing hot. She immediately scolded herself, she was NOT fourteen anymore! She could handle rejection. Though it wasn't even that. It wasn't a romantic move she was making on him, she was merely giving him a friendly and congratulatory sign of affection. That was all. Why did it hurt so much that he had moved away from her as if she were infected with something deadly? She should surely be more grown up than this by now.

A few minutes passed before Ritsu reappeared, all his earlier liveliness evaporated. Mitsuru had been playing the scene over and over again in her head, trying to figure out what it was that went so wrong. In the end, she had to summarise that it was simply that, while he didn't mind her company, he would never seek anything deeper or more intimate than that. Which was definitely fine. Absolutely. Her stomach flipped as he re-entered the room.

"Mitsuru-san." He said, his voice quiet, "I have to apologize, I have to apologize for how unforgivably rude I was, please, you have every right to turn me out of your home. I'm so sorry I intruded, I had no right, and I'm… I understand that you won't want to see me again. I'm so sorry." This quiet apology burnt her far more than any of his over-the-top overly-expressive fits of hysteria ever had. He turned to leave, his face still red and ashamed.

"No!" She said, before she could stop herself. Her mouth was moving without giving her a chance to register the words with her brain. "Don't go. It's fine. I'm not offended. I should never have pushed myself on you like that. I realize now… where the boundaries in our friendship are, and I'm sorry I crossed them. I'm sorry. I should have known that you wouldn't want to… to hug me, or anything like that! I'm really so-"

"Please, Mitsuru, please don't apologize to me, I really don't deserve it." He had turned back to her, but he was looking at his shoes, rather than at her. Maybe he couldn't even stand the sight of her now. "It wasn't you at all! It wasn't that I don't want… to hug you… I…" He stopped, unsure, questioning himself of whether he should go on. "I would like to hug you, very much!" He burst out quickly, never once looking up to meet her eye. He seemed more embarrassed than she had ever seen him.

"You… wouldn't mind?" She asked, when he fell silent, "Then…why did you-?"

"There's something… something I haven't told you, and I know I shouldn't… my family, they want it to remain a secret, but…" He looked up slightly, biting his lip, his eyes looked tortured. She wanted nothing more in that moment than to run up and pull him into a tight embrace, take the pain off his face. "But I'm… I'm going to be selfish. They may not forgive me, and you may not either, but… I need to tell you. Please."

She nodded mutely as he sat down once again on the sofa, next to her, cautiously. He started talking, and she wasn't sure if this was some kind of obscure dream she was having. Maybe she'd had that red wine she'd been wanting after all, and had fallen asleep in the bathtub. Although she had no recollection of drinking any alcohol that evening, it made a great deal more sense than Ritsu's talk of a curse relating to the Chinese zodiac.

At the end of his explanation, her not saying anything throughout, he fell silent, and she studied his face. She knew it well. Every time they went somewhere together, she seemed to spend a great deal of the time studying his beautiful, feminine features. She knew them by heart. Tonight they weren't betraying any signs of this all being a big joke, fun made at her expense and gullibility. Not that she'd expect anything like that from kind, gentle Ritsu. But surely it couldn't be true all he had said, that he, and other Sohmas, presumably even including Shigure-sensei, turned into animals if hugged by the opposite sex. That was completely absurd. If an author submitted that kind of story to her publishing firm, there was no way that it would ever get published. It would be deemed too fantastical.

"W-what animal do you transform into?" Mitsuru asked shakily, the voice didn't even seem her own.

"Uh," He seemed more cautious than ever, and she thought he was not going to say whatever he had planned next, but he proved her wrong. "Would you like to see?"

She didn't want to see. She wanted to wake up and for this whole incident to have been an odd dream that she could have laughed about while she was brushing her teeth. Ritsu was just a, reasonably, normal man. Normal men did not turn into animals. That did not happen in this world. It had to be a dream.

She nodded slowly. Surely, if this were true, actually seeing it in action couldn't make it any worse.

He leant, hesitantly, towards her, wrapping her arms loosely around her, so that if she had wriggled a bit, she would have escaped, but she did not move away from him, instead letting him lean further into her until his torso pressed against hers. There was a moment when she could feel the normal, reassuring heat from his body, before _poof._

Sitting next to her on one of the sofa's cushions was a monkey with fur in exactly the same shade as Ritsu's hair. Mitsuru had to grip onto the edge of the sofa to stop herself falling from shock.

The room was utterly silent, save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock. Neither the woman nor the monkey made a sound.

Mitsuru had no idea how to feel or what to do. It was surreal. Her heart was pounding in her chest and in her ears. The monkey looked tragic, rejected, tortured. It's eyes matched the look she had seen in Ritsu's only a little while before. This was no joke, not some clever magic trick.

It was strange, the monkey, Ritsu, gave her exactly the same desire to reach out and pull it, him, into her arms, giving reassuring words that everything would be okay.

Her arm, feeling detached from her body, reached out, clearing the distance of the sofa, her hand landing hesitantly and gently on the monkey's soft and warm head. It's fur was soft, like silk, not the coarse texture that she'd seen on gorillas at the zoo. Slowly, ever so slowly, she patted the monkey's head, feeling the fur under her fingers. The measured and light stroking seemed to reassure them both, it had a calming effect which was broken by another, sudden, _poof._

The monkey was replaced by Ritsu, his ginger hair falling over his bare shoulders. Mitsuru turned away in shock. She hadn't noticed the clothing strewn across her floor, had never thought about the practical implications of taking on a whole different form.

"E-excuse me." She heard Ritsu say. He went into a different room to change quickly back into his clothes. When he re-entered, he stood in the doorway and cleared his throat.

"I'm so, so, sorry Mitsuru for having to burden you with all this," She turned around at his words. "I know it's upset you, and I'm so sorry, I have no right to live, I'm so sorry. All I do is go around and make my own life ruin other peoples'."

Mitsuru hadn't even noticed that full tears had gathered in her eyes. "I'm not upset." She protested weakly, "I'm really not. I'm shocked, and, I'll admit I'm a bit scared, but-"

"I'm sorry, Mitsuru-san," He bowed deeply, his now loose hair swinging, "I won't contact you again. I won't let myself hurt you anymore. I'm so sorry. Tonight… I just needed to make sure you knew that I didn't move away from you because… I don't like you. I like you… a lot. I just didn't want you to find out… I'm the worst person. I'm so sorry."

"Stop." She said firmly, pulling her tears in and standing up with a strength she didn't truly feel. "Please, I don't want you to cut contact with me. Did you think that this would erase our friendship? Because you're… cursed," The word sounded strange, childish, "that I wouldn't want to see you anymore? That I wouldn't want to be near you? Do you hold me in that low esteem?"

He shook his head, his face bemused. "I hold you in the absolute highest esteem, Mitsuru-san, always. I… I don't want to stop talking with you… stop being friends. I still want to see you… I just can't… I can't hurt you Mitsuru-san. I've made you cry tonight. I don't deserve to be in company like you."

Mitsuru was completely sure she had lost the last ounce of her sanity, as she found herself letting out a laugh, a desperate laugh, her throat dry and stinging from unshed tears. "And you think that if you don't see me anymore, I won't cry for you again? I won't miss you? Do you really think that?"

He didn't reply, didn't look at her.

She sighed loudly, "You know what? I think you may just be worse than Shigure." She turned away from him. "At least with _him _when he makes me cry, I know that that's that, and everything will turn right back to normal as soon as the tissues have been thrown away. But… with you, I shed a single tear and suddenly you're going to disappear out of my life, hating yourself for it forever more?" She laughed again. Ritsu looked terrified, his eyes wide. He looked like he might start crying himself in a moment. "That's the coward's way out." She turned away from him, falling onto her sofa. He didn't appear to have moved.

"I… don't want to be a coward anymore, Mitsuru." He said in a strangely out of place, strong voice. The more familiar use of just her first name didn't go unnoticed, either. "I want… tomorrow, in the afternoon, maybe we could go to the park together? To see the sakura? They're in full bloom now, and look wonderful."

She looked him up and down once more, her eyes losing their harshness, and falling into a gentle stare. "I would like that very much."


	4. Kiss

**Finally. Romance! Yay. This chapter is all rather fluffy, be forewarned. I definitely want to see this project through to the end, even though there are a distinct lack of people who seem to understand the pure unadulterated awesome of this pairing :) If you feel so inclined, write your own ficcage of them. Let's storm with Mitsuru/Ritsu love, yes? Bring on the revolution! o_0**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket. **

* * *

**The First... Kiss**

Mitsuru had never been to an onsen before. Her family weren't poor, but they simply did not have the money to spare for such extravagances. It was times like this, as she sat on the train, congested Tokyo disappearing to be replaced by the lush countryside, that she resented this. What did she know of proper etiquette for such places? Her father had been a businessman in the city, and her mother a co-owner of a local Italian restaurant. Her Western-style childhood meant that old style Japanese life was something completely unknown to her. She was aware from early on that her and Ritsu's childhoods, and even current styles of life, were very different, but it had never been so laid out bare in front of her as it was going to be on her arrival to the onsen. She was just convinced she was going to make some embarrassing mistake which would result in her never being able to face Ritsu, let alone his family, again. Her stomach churned.

The train ride was over an hour and a half long, but her busy mind wouldn't let her eyelids droop. She was almost thankful when the train came to stop at her station, grateful that collecting up her weekend bag and various other scattered belongings kept her mind temporarily occupied from its incessant uneasiness.

Few other people got off at her station, and so there was no scouting through crowds necessary for her eyes to fall onto Ritsu, hovering by a bench, the breeze blowing against him slightly so that the sleeves of his furisode blew up, exposing his forearms. She felt a sense of warm relief settle on her brain slightly at the sight of him. What had she been thinking? He, gentle, kind, sweet Ritsu would never persecute her, even if she made the most major of onsen-faux-pas.

His eyes fell upon her, from the several metres distance between them. He smiled at her and instantaneously she returned the gesture. Her worrying had made her forget how flattered she had been to have been invited, and how much she had been looking forward to spending the weekend at the hot-springs, with her friend taking the chivalrous role of tour-guide.

"Ah, good morning, Mitsuru-san!" He moved towards her, the greats folds of fabrics in the attire flapping slightly as he did so.

"Ritsu-san!" She said with true cheerfulness, placing her bag on the ground. If it had been any other friend of equal closeness, she would have wrapped them in a brief hug, a greeting taught to her by her somewhat over-affectionate mother. However, she restrained herself just in time. She found herself almost laughing at how easily such a dramatic discovery, that a friend of hers turned into a monkey when hugged by someone of the opposite sex, had settled itself calmly to the back of her mind. Ritsu must have guessed what she had been planning, unthinkingly, to do, because although he still smiled, he seemed to be fidgeting nervously, as if to keep himself on his toes in case he had to make a quick dash away.

"Sorry," She said quickly, picking up her bag again, blushing slightly, "Force of habit."

"I-it's not your fault, not at all, Mitsuru-san." He said, inclining the top half of his body slightly in her direction, "Please, do not apologize to me, I'm not worthy of such kindness."

She opened her mouth to argue against his self-deprecation, but chose against it. There was no point, on a trip that was supposed to be relaxing, to set Ritsu off on an apology tirade, and herself into a panic at what she had done. She held her tongue on the matter.

"How often do you visit your parents at the onsen?" Mitsuru asked, falling into close step next to him as they left the small station, coming onto a country road which she assumed would lead to their destination.

"Oh, as often as I can." He said, "Now that I've graduated, I spend a lot of the week here. I try to help out in whatever way I can. My mother's training me, so that I can take over when the time comes."

"So then you'll live here permanently?" She asked, as the shape of a traditional wooden Japanese building came into view.

"No," He shook his head, long tendrils of honey coloured hair falling over his face, "I'll move here much sooner than that, I think. My mother thinks that it won't be long before I'll need to be in full time training, if I am to have any chance of being capable of taking over by the time my parents retire."

"Oh," Her enquiries had been purely so as to make conversation. She hadn't expected him to tell her something that seemed to make her heart fall to somewhere in the region of her stomach. "I suppose, then… I won't see you so much." And they had been seeing a lot of each other. Almost every weekend they had met up to have coffee, or to take a stroll in the park, or to have dinner at each other's apartments. Even sometimes during the week they would see each other. Ritsu had become a far more regular guest at Shigure-sensei's house, and often seemed to be there when she came to collect the rarely finished manuscripts, or to discuss with Sensei something to do with his undeservedly successful career.

"Oh," Ritsu looked at her, his eyes slightly widened as they arrived at the building, the only one around. "I-I'm sure we will stay in touch… If that's, I mean, if you would like to but if you don't, of course, I'd understand completely!" He was flushed.

"No, no," She said distractedly as they walked up to the front entrance, "We will definitely stay in touch." Her voice sounded somewhat flat to her own ears, she hoped Ritsu hadn't picked up on it. Why did it feel like he had placed a slight weight on her chest? Why had her good mood suddenly plummeted ground-wards? It was ridiculous, she berated herself, as she took off her shoes to enter the building. Adults parted ways all the time. Many good friends had done the same in the past, moved away so at to pursue their own happiness. She had wished sincerely for them to find it. Yet with Ritsu, here she was, selfishly wishing he wouldn't leave her behind so as to fulfil his own destiny of taking over the inn, something he had told her many times had been his goal since childhood. She hated how selfish she was being.

"Ritsu-kun, is that you?" A woman interrupted her thoughts. She appeared a moment later, peering at the pair of them from a screen door, greying black hair in an untidy bun on the top of her head. She looked sickly, with bags under her eyes like dark pools. Mitsuru had been informed beforehand that the Okami's health wasn't good, but she hadn't been anticipating how ill she would really look.

"Is this your friend?" She asked her son. Just observing the gaze she gave him, she could tell that the treasured him deeply. _As he deserves, _she thought.

"Yes… yes, Mother, this is Mitsuru-san."

She bowed to the older woman.

"It's good to meet you."

"Yes…" The okami sighed, "You are the woman whom my son speaks of such a lot."

From her voice alone, she sounded like it irritated her, but as Mitsuru glanced up, concerned, there was a warm smile on her cracked lips.

"I'm afraid my husband cannot be here to meet you, though he very sincerely wanted to, such an important guest… But his own brother has recently fallen ill, and the responsibility is his to care for him."

Mitsuru bowed again. "Oh, no, of course, I'm not an important visitor at all, his brother's health is far more important! I only hope he returns to full health very quickly."

"Ah," The okami sighed once more. "You are too humble, and very kind. Though, I am sure this will not be the only chance my husband will have of meeting you." Her eyes glinted for a fraction of a second, while Mitsuru stopped her mind from going over what she possibly meant by that. They had been too kind already, inviting her for a free weekend at their onsen. It would surely be too much to ask her to come again.

"Well," Okami-san concluded, "I'm due to have a soak in the hot spring. Ritsu-kun, please show your guest to her room. After that, Mitsuru-san, please feel free to enjoy the facilities of our onsen."

With that, she was gone, with speed unbefitting a woman with such a sickly disposition.

Ritsu, blushing around the collar, lead her through the building without a sound. She didn't understand why he seemed embarrassed all of a sudden.

"Your mother seems a very nice lady." Mitsuru commented, as Ritsu opened the door of the expansive room, that was designated to be hers for her two day stay.

"Yes." He said, then paused. "Mitsuru-san…" He trailed off.

She turned around, from where she was placing her weekend bag beside the cupboard that she suspected would contain her futon.

"Hmm?" She asked, turning around to face him once again. He was hovering by the doorway, unsure and uncomfortable. He obviously didn't think it appropriate to enter a woman's room.

"About my mother… She is… somewhat old-fashioned. Which is why she was so keen to invite you here, I think."

Mitsuru was bemused, not following his thought patterns.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm not explaining myself well at all… What I mean to say is, I think, perhaps, she was so eager to meet you because she believes… that I'm at an age where I should be thinking about settling down and… marrying." He said the last word quietly, staring at his feet and nowhere else.

Mitsuru wasn't quite sure what to reply. Part of her wanted to laugh. Surely, nobody on the outside would the view the pair of them and think they could be a couple? They were good friends. Obviously. And yes, she had a certain understanding, and from that attachment, to Ritsu that she didn't have to all of her friends. In fact, she often felt an affinity with Ritsu she simply didn't have with anyone else, but that was it. Definitely.

"So… she, uh, thinks we're a couple?"

He nodded, once, slowly. "I never told her that, though, of course. She… she jumped to conclusions when I've spoken of you in the past. I'm so sorry, Mitsuru-san. I've made you incredibly uncomfortable. I'm sorry. I never should have forced you to come here."

She laughed lightly, moving towards him, and resting a hand on his forearm, which was crossed across his chest.

"It's fine, Ritsu-san." She reassured, "Please, don't worry. There are far worse things in the world to endure than having your mother believe we're… going out, for a couple of days." She smiled at him, as if to get across how genuine she was being. He smiled back, though tentatively.

"Thank you, Mitsuru-san, though I do not deserve a friend as understanding and kind as you. Thank you."

Ritsu stood, still in the doorway, as Mitsuru unpacked the few things she had brought with her. The embarrassment seemed to have disappeared, and they were chatting as usual, as good friends. She stood up, admiring the room around her. The Sohmas really were an extravagant family.

"Would you like to go to the hot springs now?" Ritsu asked, "Only if you're ready though, I'm not meaning to hurry-"

"No, I'm ready." She said, though her stomach gave an uncomfortable twist, as it had done on the train. "Do I… uh, need anything, to bring with me, to the springs?"

"Huh?" He looked surprised, "No, everything's supplied. Towels and… everything." He smiled softly, "You seem… nervous?"

"I've just…" She laughed slightly, "Never actually been to an onsen before. I don't… really know all the procedures and things."

He smiled again, "There aren't many procedures. Please, don't worry at all. I'll show you along to the women's spring…"

"Did you enjoy your soak?" Okami-san asked from across the dinner table. Mitsuru had to hastily swallow her mouthful to reply, a sesame seed getting caught in her throat and making her splutter for a moment.

"Uh, yes, very much so, thank you. It was very relaxing. The surroundings are beautiful, too."

"Yes… And Ritsu-kun, did you soak at all? You haven't done in such a long time. I really think it would be good for your anxiety levels."

"I… uh, no, I did not. I'm sorry. I will… straight after dinner, I will! I'm sorry, Mother."

His apologies weren't loud, as they had a tendency to be, but the sincerity and strength of the words he gave his mother forced Mitsuru to look away. She didn't understand why, when his mother seemed to love him so much, he acted as if he were guilty, and indebted to her.

"Good boy." She said, satisfied. "Now,"

Her tone had enough authority that they both looked up at her instantly, as if they were paying attention to a strict schoolteacher.

"How long have the two of you been in a relationship?"

This time, Mitsuru choked on the entire shiitake mushroom she had placed in her mouth. A flustered Ritsu patted her gently and ineffectively on the back, more to avoid the question than to clear Mitsuru's airway.

"Oh, there's no need to be embarrassed." Okami-san said, smiling, "We're all adults here."

Ritsu didn't answer, and Mitsuru was clueless to whether he'd prefer the misunderstanding be revealed, or if they should just play along.

"Uh, well, we've know each other for about… eight months, I suppose." She started cautiously, nor truly believing that this would satisfy the okami as an answer, "Through Shigure-sensei." The name, even from her own lips, made her skin prickle.

"Ah, yes, Ritsu-kun said you were Shigure-bocchan's editor. I must say, you're lucky to work for an author like that. I hear his works are very good."

Ritsu's hand clamped around her wrist under the table, possibly the only thing preventing her from falling off her chair in a mixture of shock, outrage, and pure hatred of the man in question. She forced her face, with Herculean effort, into a very fake smile.

"But I digress, of how many of the eight months you have known each other have you been a pair?"

Ritsu glanced fearfully over at Mitsuru, and her face was as rabbit-in-the-headlights as his.

He inhaled loudly, "About a month." He said quietly, almost as if he hoped she wouldn't hear, and would ask Mitsuru instead of himself for clarification.

"A month? Not too long at all then. But, tell me, do you feel you have a strong, stable relationship?"

The question brought back flashes of the single time she had agreed to see the company councillor for her 'anxiety issues' came disturbingly to her mind. The words 'strong' and 'stable' were two things she wasn't, apparently. She shuddered involuntarily.

"Um, yes?" Ritsu suggested, glancing rather wildly at Mitsuru. She felt they both knew at this point that they were rapidly getting deeper in, and should probably give up while they still could. Neither seemed to want to be the one to tell Okami-san that she had been mislead, however.

"Oh, good," She seemed genuinely pleased, "I was rather fearing for…" She jumped up suddenly, "I was fearful that my son may never marry, being as he is, however dear to my own heart! To think, he has won the heart of such a kind young woman warms my own heart so greatly, I am so grateful to you, Mitsuru-san!" She bowed extravagantly, "I can retire now, in a couple of years, knowing that the onsen will be safe with my son and his loving wife!"

There didn't seem to be any words in Mitsuru's vocabulary that could form a response appropriate to the stream of words and gratitude that had just been fired at her.

"Uh, ah, Mother, I think we have both done eating, if we may… go to our rooms? I'm sure Mitsuru-san is very tired after her journey." This wasn't true. Mitsuru's stomach was still rumbling slightly, having eaten barely anything all day. Going to bed to an empty stomach, however, seemed a small price to pay to get away from the perilous and awkward situation.

"Ah, Ritsu-kun," She calmed down almost instantly, sitting herself back down at the table as if nothing had happened. "Make sure you have that soak in the hot-spring before you go to bed, It'll help you sleep better."

"Okay." He said weakly, standing up, and prompting Mitsuru to, too.

"Sleep well, Mitsuru-san." Okami-san said cheerfully. Mitsuru just nodded.

Ritsu escorted her back to her room, again not saying a word.

"I-I am so very sorry, Mitsuru-san, so sorry!" His eyes were glistening. She wanted to hug him and reassure him she really minded very little. His mother got ahead of herself, but her thinking the two of them were a loving couple who would eventually run the onsen together wasn't one that she found offensive.

"It was my fault as much as yours, I went along with it. We probably should have just told her of her mistake to begin with."

He nodded.

"But, on the other hand… if it helps her sleep better, well… it can't be bad. Sleep is very good if you're ill."

He nodded again, looking up at her for the first time since leaving the table.

"W-when do you think we should… correct her?"

Normally, efficient and sensible Mitsuru would have kicked in then, told him they would tell her first thing in the morning, with little regard for how betrayed she might feel. However, a strong, dominant, voice in her head was arguing… "Maybe we should just… leave it?"

"L-leave it?" He repeated.

"Well, it's not doing any harm… it keeps her mind at rest, and… until you get a real girlfriend, it shouldn't be a… big deal?" She didn't know where this daredevil behaviour was coming from. It was ridiculous. Every rational fibre of her being was telling her so. But something argued, something stronger than all of that.

"I… I suppose… we could do that." There was a couple of minutes silence between them, each lost in their own thoughts. It was broken only by Okami-san calling, startling them, "Ritsu-kun? Are you still in here? Why aren't you in the spring yet?"

"I'm, I'm going now." He immediately bowed a quick apology to Mitsuru, who gave him a small smile, and disappeared along the corridor, in the direction of the springs.

Mitsuru shut the sliding door to her room, and exhaled slowly. She could feel her heart beating, alive and well, as she unrolled her futon and changed into her pyjamas. As she lay, she could almost feel the sensation of the adrenaline pumping through her. She wasn't sure how long she lay like that. It felt a long time, but in reality, according to her precisely set watch, was little over an hour. It was then that she gave up with sleep for the moment, and crept out of her room, pulling her own dressing gown around herself, rather than the robes provided by the onsen.

She didn't know where she was going, but felt a walk would do her good. There hadn't seemed to be any other guests around earlier, so she wouldn't be disturbing anybody, and she suspected Okami-san would have already gone to bed herself.

Outside, the temperature had dropped considerably, and she was glad she had thought to pull on the dressing gown. The heat from the springs combining with the cool air resulted in a mythical looking thick steam cloud hanging all around, making clear vision an almost impossible feat.

A couple of minutes of aimless walking passed, her trying to reign her thoughts into some kind of order, the way they usually were, the way her job required they were. What use would she be as an editor if she weren't an analytical and logical thinker?

"Mitsuru-san?" Ritsu's voice, a voice she had become very accustomed to. Her stomach flipped, the idea that she had just walked accidently, but shamelessly, over to the men's hot spring flitting to mind.

"Are you on a walk?" He asked calmly. She turned towards the voice, moving cautiously towards it. He didn't sound panicked, so maybe she hadn't landed herself in the embarrassing situation she had just contemplated.

"Yes, I couldn't sleep." She could see him properly now. He looked exactly the same as he had done and hour or so before. He hadn't been in the water, by the looks of it. His sandals sat at the side of him though, and he was allowing his feet to dangle in the water, the fabric of his furisode being pulled up so as to not dampen it.

"Didn't you want to go in?"

"I…" He smiled, but his brown eyes were sad, "I really don't like bathing in the hot spring. It's… difficult. I don't feel I have a place to… go in either spring."

She'd never thought about that. She rarely did think of how Ritsu dressed nowadays. It wasn't disconcerting or strange anymore. It was just Ritsu. It was odd to be reminded of how other people would view him, with confusion, not seeing a sweet, under-confident man, but a cross-dressing guy who wouldn't really have a place in either the male or female spring.

"D-do you mind, a lot?" She asked.

"No. I never liked the springs much, even when I was a child. I very much want to run the onsen, but that's it." He smiled slightly. Again, that urge within him to pull him into a hug. What was coming over her? By nature, she wasn't that affectionate a person, only her mother's influence had made her comfortable with basic physical intimacies. She didn't know what was wrong with her when it came to Ritsu.

"Mitsuru-san, may I ask you," He started, "Do you really not mind my mother having the… wrong idea?"

She smiled, gazing somewhere into the steamy distance.

"I don't mind. Not at all."

He shook his head, as if in disbelief.

"I've put you through so much…" He said quietly, apologetically, "With the curse… and now this, I'm so sorry…"

The quiet apologies always stabbed much further into her than his yelled ones.

"It's okay." She said equally quietly, "You've not put me through anything that outweighs our friendship. I'm glad I know you. Very glad. Even if that means, by extension, I have to be glad to know that… _demon_, seeing as it was through him…" She laughed slightly. It was amazing how relaxing her 'walk' was turning out to be.

Ritsu smiled too, wistfully, his mouth worded something that she didn't catch. In the comfortable silence that fell between them, Mitsuru took the opportunity to observe Ritsu. He had looks that many girls in Japan would give their right arm for. He had a feminine beauty which let him easily look beautiful in furisode. The bow, capturing some of the honey-silk hair at the back of his head, had come loose, and was drooping slightly on one side. She leant over to him, a bold move without his permission, putting an arm around either side of his head to catch the fabric in her fingers, to retighten it. Her movement coincided exactly with an unaware Ritsu turning to say something to her.

They awkwardly bumped foreheads, the sudden closeness seeming to shock both of them into utter paralysis.

"Uh." Ritsu said, capable of nothing else. It was more than Mitsuru could manage. She was overcome with an insane, _insane,_ urge. He was a friend. That was it. Only Okami-san thought otherwise…

Her lips caught his. They were dried out from the steam in the atmosphere. They were completely still under her, and she, as if burnt, pulled away, realising the enormity of what she'd just done. In one movement, she had completely ruined everything between them. The close proximity remained, as did the silence. When she dared to glance to the delicate face close to her own, his eyes were watching her with something like awe.

"Um… uh… can I… can I?" She wasn't sure what he meant. Her first guess would have been 'can I run off, see you off on the train in awkward silence tomorrow, then cut all contact with you?'.

She was wrong.

His dry lips found hers this time, moving gently, cautiously, as if afraid of doing damage. Warm hands moved to her waist, entirely unsure and ready to dart back to their owner's side at any given moment. They held her to him at the same time as making sure she remained at a distance which wouldn't result in a transformation.

The kiss was unlike anything she had ever experience previously. It wasn't suspiciously experienced, like her prom date's, or passionate and demanding more, like her boyfriend from many years before. It was… Ritsu. Exactly and completely Ritsu.


	5. Fight

**Here we are, the next part in the Ritsu/Mitsuru saga (does it deserve to be called that?). It's the product of procrastination of Spanish revision. At least when I fail Spanish, I'll know that I managed to spread a bit more Ritsu/Mii love in the world in any case. Yay! There's still not many fics for the pairing (I check with obsessive regularity). There are more Ayame/Ritsu & Shigure/Mitsuru fics to be honest. I think all Ritsu/Mii shippers should unite, and take over the Fruits Basket fandom! Yes! & without further ado, here's my contribution to the revolution.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. At all. How sad.**

**Fight**

She hadn't seen Ritsu in weeks. His training at the onsen was really coming on strong now. He was always exhausted when he returned, yet without exception, when all he yearned for was sleep, he came round to her apartment to see her. This was why she was sitting rather impatiently on the sofa in her living room now, not really watching the low-budget reality show that was on. She'd glance at the clock every now and then. He wasn't late, in all the time she'd known him he hadn't been late for anything, but he never could be specific on the time he would arrive. He'd said he'd try his very best to be there at some time between four and six. He wasn't anything like that _evil _relative she worked with. He'd keep his promise.

The clock seemed to be going deliberately slow, the inane programme on the TV show dragging on for longer than it should.

Six o'clock finally came, and she had somehow convinced herself that the second the minute hand hit the twelve, her bell would ring, and an apologetic Ritsu would be on her doorstep, apologizing frantically for being late. There was nothing. Silence, save for the chatter of the unrealistically happy and beautiful people in the cheesy soap opera that was now occupying her television screen.

This was an absolute first, Mitsuru thought to herself, trying to keep light-hearted. No doubt he would be absolutely devastated with himself when he showed up in a few minutes. He would be convinced she should never forgive him for the grievous crime. Of course, she'd brush it aside, and they'd spend the evening in each other's company, as they always did.

The few minutes passed. Quarter of an hour. Twenty minutes. Half an hour. Thirty three minutes. She wasn't even hiding that her focus was on the clock now, her television, though still buzzing with life, was forgotten. She was repeatedly replaying in her head the conversation she had had over the phone with Ritsu that very morning, trying to find a case of crossed-wires. He had definitely said he would be there that evening, he had plans to get the midday train from the station close to the onsen. She was sure beyond a doubt that he had said between four and six. That was when he always said. Neither of them liked to break a good routine when they found one. Therefore, the only conclusion was what it seemed. He was late.

She didn't even know why it was bothering her _quite _so much, she thought, as the clock made its way to the seven o'clock mark. Many people had absolutely appalling timekeeping skills. Ritsu Sohma was not one of them, by nature, but it was hardly a big deal. She should be used to being left in the lurch. How many years had she worked with Shigure-sensei, after all? If he had done this to her, showed up late for a prearranged meeting (as he had done many times before), she wouldn't have batted an eyelid. Well, she may have had a hyperventilating panic attack, but that was stress related, not because she was _worried _about him. And that's what she was now, as the clock ticked its way down to seven thirty. She was worried. She forced herself to look away from the clock, back to the television, an attempt to divert her mind from thoughts she didn't want to even consider.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn't eaten since lunchtime, as the dinnertime news bulletin came on. When Ritsu came round after an extended period at the onsen, they always had dinner together. They took it in turns at cooking. This time, it was Ritsu, who had promised to make yakisoba, her favourite food when she had spent the summers of her childhood with her traditionally Japanese grandmother. She couldn't even consider the possibility of getting herself something to eat. To do that would admit with certainty that something was wrong, and that Ritsu wasn't coming. Her stomach was uneasy anyway, it seemed unwise to try and put anything into it.

She turned her attention back to the news, trying to keep her thoughts in check. Predictably depressing, she only listened with half an ear to the tales of horror around the world. It was now almost eight. The news was almost over, coming onto the last part, the local news of all that horror and suffering that had taken place in Tokyo within the last twenty four hours.

She was tempted to switch off, her mind being little comforted by all the general fear and unhappiness that seemed universal. Her eyes strayed to the clock. It was only when the news presenter said the words 'train crash' that the merciless clock was forgotten completely for a moment. The presenter, a neat and serious looking woman, spoke in a fake grievous tone of a train, heading into Tokyo that afternoon, being derailed by a 'fault in the line'. Apparently, it was still unknown to the severity of the situation, and how many people had been injured and killed.

Mitsuru felt a cold wash over her, and a sense of sickening dread. This was it. This was where Ritsu was. It wasn't just a coincidence that the first time Ritsu had ever been late ran parallel to a train crashing on its way into Tokyo.

Mitsuru had no idea what do with herself. She wanted to call someone. Anyone who could help her, tell her _something._ What if he was in that train, bleeding, in absolute agony? Knowing him, the thing he'd be most worried about was being so many hours late for dinner at her apartment. Her sight blurred as her eyes became hot, and overflowed. She didn't attempt to restrain the tears. What if… what if it was even worse than that? What if he was lying there cold and alone, his skin grey, empty of all his warmth? If his last moments had been filled, as so much of his life had been, with fear and panic?

Her head dropped into her hands, sobs wracking over her. This was her fault. He'd been coming a day earlier than originally planned because she had to work tomorrow. Why couldn't she have told him to just forget her, stick to the original plan? How could she ever forgive herself if, because of her, he was lying in that train, lifeless, his eyes dead and soulless? She'd never even told him how beautiful those eyes were. Why hadn't she told him that? Why, when she had the chance, hadn't she told him that? Because she'd thought she would have all the time in the world with him. She felt sick from her sobs. She had never hated herself so thoroughly and entirely.

Time passed, it didn't matter anymore. Whether it was three minutes or three hours, it meant nothing. Her sobs let up eventually, from sheer exhaustion. She was covered in a film of cold sweat, her clothes clung to her body, but she felt nothing. Numb. She sat on her sofa, her arms around herself, holding her together. The television was still on, but to her mind there was silence. She couldn't think anymore. She didn't want to. She wanted blankness.

The doorbell rang. Earlier, she would have rejoiced. Now, like the clock, it had lost it's significance. She counted how many times the person at her door rang. Thirteen. Unlucky for some.

She heard the clatter of her letterbox opening.

"Mitsuru-chan? Are you there, dear Mitsuru-chan?"

"I don't know she'll appreciate you calling her 'chan'."

"Nonsense. She's almost family, after all."

She knew those voices. Only vaguely. They weren't people she knew well. They didn't immediately connect with either names nor faces. Ritsu. They were connected to him, she'd been with him when the met these people.

Her chest hurt.

Almost robotically she went to the door, opening it, not looking in the mirror for the state she was in, her eyes puffy, her cheeks blotched, her short hair in utter disarray. It took a moment for her to take in what she was presented with. Three figures on her door. She didn't care at all for the other two the moment her eyes fell upon the nervous, beautiful, oh so beautiful, man in the bright yellow furisode.

"R-Ritsu? Ritsu!" She cried. She could feel fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. She didn't care at all. Warmth, relief, feeling overtook her.

"Oh, Mitsuru, I'm so so-" She cut him off, literally lunging on him, not caring for a second if her recklessness caused him to transform. She sought out his lips, putting as much pressure on them as she could, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. She vaguely registered his hands on her abdomen, preventing it from touching his own so he could retain human form.

She kissed him with a strength she had never applied on any man before, there was feeling behind it she didn't know she possessed. As her lips moved, the feeling of Ritsu's, warm, inviting and so very _alive, _under her gave her relief like breathing after a forced period under water.

"Isn't this just beautiful, Ha-san?" The voice that had been calling her 'chan' said. She didn't care to think about who he was. Everything in her mind, and a good proportion of her physical being, was Ritsu.

"Give them some privacy." The other man said, his voice commanding.

"Of course, Ha-san, after all, the flower of love cannot bloom if overshadowed by trees!"

"You make no sense."

"Mitsuru." She felt Ritsu mumble again her lips, "Mitsuru." He tried again, pushing ever so slightly, quite an assertive move for Ritsu, against her abdomen, so she was forced to take her lips from his. She didn't relinquish her hold around his neck. She scanned her eyes in a daze over his face. It was exactly the same as the last time she'd seen him. She found his eyes, warm honey, she didn't think they would be capable of a cold look.

"Beautiful." She said quietly, "You have to know that. Your eyes are absolutely beautiful."

He instantly became flustered, jabbering denials.

"Mitsuru, y-you're far too kind… after I was so unforgivably late! I'm so sorry!"

"Don't apologize, Ritchan!" The more obnoxious of their pair of onlookers came into her sight, she remembered him to be Ayame, wrenching Ritsu from her grasp so he could place his own arm around his shoulders. Ritsu was watching him with complete awe. "While dates with your girlfriend are no doubt important, for the greater good, you had to give me your services this evening!"

"S-services?" Mitsuru repeated, wiping her tear streaked cheeks with the cuff of her cardigan, "What happened?" She asked, "When you were late, I was worried, and on the news I saw-"

"Worried?" Ayame laughed at the word, "Why, my dear Mitsuru-chan, your worry was misdirected. Our dear Ritchan has been lending his expert eye on kimono, something I have only dabbled in in the past. I am in no doubt that many men's fantasies lie in this more traditional style of dress, and it would therefore be an abomination if I could not fulfil them."

"Y-you were at Ayame-san's shop?" Mitsuru asked, turning to Ritsu. "All this time?"

He nodded, smiling happily, "Ayame-niisan came and met me off the train, he said it was an emergency… and… well, I tried my absolute best to help him… at much as I'm able!"

"And help he did!" Ayame announced grandly, "You have a very refined lover, Mitsuru-chan."

She was staring slightly open mouthed at the pair of them. Neither picked up on her shock , or the anger and hurt she could steadily feel building. Only the other man, Hatori, if she remembered rightly, seemed to sense what her reaction to this revelation was going to be.

"We should go." He told Ayame.

"Oh, but Ha-san-"

"Now. I'm not waiting around for you to drive you home. You'll have to walk. And it's cold out."

"Oh, yes, yes, Ha-san, I was just thinking myself that it were time we gave these lovers some quality time on their own." He let go of Ritsu, and waved extravagantly. "So long, Ritchan, Mitsuru-chan!"

The pair left, Ayame's voice could still be heard as they descended the stairs of the apartment building.

Ritsu smiled weakly.  
"Are you okay, Mitsuru?" He asked, "Why were you crying?" It was hardly an unfamiliar sight, "Did you have to see Shigure-niisan?"

She couldn't believe how fast her overwhelming relief had changed. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to yell at Ritsu, tell him what she had been going through, make him feel guilty. Not that that took much.

"No. I was crying, Ritsu, because of you." Her voice was flat, as she went back into her apartment, Ritsu on her heels, closing the door behind himself.

"W-what? I made you cry? I-I… this is unforgivable, I'm so s-sorry!"

"Don't apologize." She sat herself on the sofa she hadn't long vacated. "You don't even know what you've done wrong, do you?"

Ritsu stood in front of her, visibly shaking slightly. She had never used this cold tone of voice on him before. It was one she rarely employed for anyone. Even Shigure-sensei had only been subjected to it a couple of times, when he was at his absolute worst.

"B-because I was s-so late?" He cried, as he threw himself down onto his knees, "Mitsuru-san, I'm sorry! So sorry! I don't deserve to _live_! I have committed an absolutely unforgivable crime! I'm so sorry! You must hate me, you deserve to hate me after what I've done! I'm so sorry! You should never have to see me again! I'm sorry, I won't burden you with my company anymore! I'll leave right now! I'm sorry!"

She sighed, leaning back and closing her eyes, suddenly exhausted. She let his apologies wash over her, meaning nothing, despite the sincerity he no doubt felt.

"Why didn't you call, Ritsu?" She asked, not opening her eyes. "Did it never even enter your head to just pick up the phone and tell me you were going to Ayame's?"

"I… I don't know how I can ever apologize enough, Mitsuru! I'm so sorry. I'll leave, I'll leave right now! You won't have to see me again. I'm sorry!" She could hear that he was getting choked up as he spoke.

She opened her eyes, leaning forward once again, her face close to his as he knelt before her on the beige carpet. She deliberately refused to meet his desperate eyes, filled with tears.

"There's been a train crash." She informed him, "This afternoon. A train coming into Tokyo. Derailed. They don't know the numbers hurt and killed, but it looks severe, apparently."

Ritsu didn't say anything for a moment, trying to work out what this had to do with his unforgivable lateness. Then it must have clicked.

"Oh… Oh, Mitsuru, I had no idea, I'm so sorry! I was so thoughtless! Those poor people! I was frivolous, going to Ayame's shop when such an awful accident had happened. I'm so selfish! And to think, I was on a train this afternoon! I should have been the one in a train accident, it would have been fitting for all my unforgivable sins! I don't deserve to live! I'm so sorry!"

She stared at him in utter shock.

"You… don't understand at all. How can you not see what you put me through, Ritsu?! For goodness sake, could it be more obvious?! I thought you were on that derailed train! I thought you were injured, or dead! How can you be so blind?!"

He gazed at her in gaping amazement, words apparently beyond him.

"What you put me through this evening is ten, no, a hundred times worse than Shigure-sensei ever has, or ever will manage! I was scared, Ritsu! Bloody terrified! I thought I'd lost you!" She stopped herself then. She was saying too much. His eyes were leaking slow tears now. From her close vantage point, she could see the exact tracks they made down his delicate face.

"Mitsuru," His voice was quiet now, "You should never have let yourself be so worried over me. My life isn't worth that. It's not worth your worry. Please." He bowed, hair covering his face so she could no longer see his devastated expression.

She could feel a lump rise in her throat. What was she doing? Only short while before, she had thought the man in front of her, the man that tugged on her heart like no-one else she had ever known, was dead, gone. She had lost hope she would ever get to see him again. What was she doing? She had been granted a miracle, and all she was doing was yelling at him, making him feel awful about himself. She dropped off the sofa, so she was on her knees directly in front of him. She brushed some hair away from his eyes, behind his ear. He looked up to face her tentatively. His eyes were now pink, much like she guessed her own were.

"I'm so sorry, Mitsuru-san." He spoke quietly, with a formality he hadn't used towards her in months.

"D-don't start calling me 'san' again." She said, her voice wobbling as she tried to stop any more tears leaking out of her own eyes. "I thought we were long past that."

"I'm sorry." He turned his head away from her, ashamed.

She could feel the breath in her throat restricting. It was a familiar sensation. Much like the moments before she begins to hyperventilate.

"I'm… I'm sorry I got angry, Ritsu… I'm sorry."

"No! No, please don't apologize to me, Mitsuru! Please! I'm not worthy. You'd be better off if I hadn't arrived at all this evening. I was so selfish… so thoughtless. I could never be forgiven… It would be wrong of me to ever even let you forgive. I don't deserve to live!"

"I need to apologize… I was making you feel guilty for a conclusion that I jumped to myself… I'm sorry. You have every right to visit Ayame whenever you want. I shouldn't have got so angry."

He was silent.

"Mitsuru…" Ritsu said, his voice suddenly slow, nowhere near as panicked as a moment ago, "Is that why… you k-kissed me… like that? Because you were scared?"

She almost laughed.

"I was… very relieved, Ritsu. You weren't hurt, you were okay. I was so relieved. I don't know what I would have done if…" She trailed off. That thought train was still too raw.

The anger had ebbed now. A sense of familiar security had settled itself within her. Things were just as they always were. Never had the status quo felt quite so agreeable.

"I would have preferred…" Ritsu started tentatively, "To come straight here from the train. If Ayame-niisan hadn't insisted I help, though I was honoured that he asked me, I would have come here."

"I miss it when you're at the onsen." She said quietly. She attempted a bright smile. "But you never said, how is your training going?"

He nodded slowly. "It's going well… I think. In fact, Mother thinks that maybe… I'm ready to take up permanent residence there."

Mitsuru's recently acquired feeling of warm was extinguished as if someone had thrown an bucket of icy water over her.

"She asked that… I start packing as soon as I get back to my apartment, so I can be ready to move late next week."

"Oh." Was all Mitsuru managed. How had she forgotten? How had she managed to put it so thoroughly from her mind that he was destined to go and live at the far off onsen at some time in the reasonably near future? How often would he be able to visit? Maybe once every couple of months, less when the onsen had a lot of guests.

With that, her status quo was broken.

**I'm undecided whether I like this chapter or not. I find Mitsuru really hard to write. Mainly because in the manga we never really get to see her other than when she's being tormented by Shigure. I figure that maybe, when he's not around, she may act pretty composed. I don't know XD**

* * *


	6. Embrace

**Thanks to NinjaHandyMan08 for the review of the last chapter XD I love to hear that people are reading my fics (even better if they're enjoying them too...) This fic is almost over. In my (sketchy) plan (kept only in my head. To have actually written it down would have been way too organised and sensible) there's about two chapters left. Three, at a push, if I get a sudden spark of irrepressable inspiration. Hugs to everyone reading this fic. I hope I'm doing okay!**

**DISCLAIMER: Uh uh. I don't own Fruits Basket. Life is mean like that.**

**Embrace**

Mitsuru had come to see Ritsu off at the station. The time had passed so fast. This was it. He was leaving today. All his luggage, all his worldly possessions, had been sent off ahead of time. His home was once again the far away onsen, the onsen she'd be lucky to visit once or twice a year, what with her hectic schedule at the publishing firm. The only thing that had lessened her workload was the sudden resignation, and retirement, of Shigure Sohma. A joyous occasion though it was, her celebrations with Ritsu lasting long into the night, it still would not allow her to leave Tokyo on a regular basis, to travel to the remote onsen.

"Mitsuru!" The beautiful man stood up from the metal bench on which head been sitting, with nothing but a single, slightly feminine, tote bag by his side. She noted that he was wearing a plain white shirt and trousers today. Men's clothing. Did he want for her last memory of him to be as the man he really was, despite his effeminate exterior?

"Oh, I'm glad, Ritsu," She said. She was slightly out of breath. Her boss had not allowed her to leave ten minutes early, as she had requested. She'd had a horrible fear that she would miss him. "How long… until the train leaves?"

He glanced as his watch. He had a small smile on her lips, that she did not understand. When she had last seen him, only a couple of days ago, he had seemed as down about his leaving as she was, despite the exciting new life it was presenting to him.

"There's still ten minutes, or so, before the train goes." He said calmly. The serenity was so out of place, it hung like an aura around him. It was so unlike her Ritsu, it was raising her own worry and anxiety.

"Are you… excited?"

He nodded. "Yes, very. I really did not believe my parents, that my parents would be able to trust someone as unworthy as myself with a duty as important as the running of the onsen."

"You'll be wonderful." He was staring down at her with eyes of liquid honey. The gaze wasn't fleeting or nervous as was often the case with Ritsu. There had been several moments like this over the past few days, she had noticed, pronounced because of how uncharacteristically intense and bold they were from the jittery man in front of her. It was as if he had something he wanted to communicate, but did not know the best words.

"Are you okay?" She asked quietly, after a moment. "If there's something you want to say… I don't mind, whatever it is, I want to know?"

"I-" He was cut off by the sound of a train drawing up to the station. His train. The train that would take him away. It would only stand there idle for a few minutes. That's all they had. How many months would, after that, pass before they saw each other again? Would they see each other again? What if separation, in fact, did not make the heart grow fonder? She could not imagine there was someone else in the world that lived so much on the same level to her as Ritsu. Would this moment, this letting him go, become one of her greatest regrets? Would she look back, decades from now, when she was an old woman, and still feel a dull ache for what could have been? But she had no choice. The onsen was where Ritsu belonged.

"I," He started again, as the train quietened down to a level where voices could be heard above it. "I don't know how it happened… I don't know why. Actually, I don't think anyone's quite sure, but… it's not just me, everyone…" He jabbered, his eyes were glistening with tears, but it did not seem to be with sadness, like her own eyes wanted to shed. There was joy and relief on his features, as he looked down at her, a small smile still on his lips.

"Oh, I'm sorry… I'm not being clear."

She gazed back at him, waiting for a spoken explanation that never came.

"May I?" She did not have a chance to respond. Without warning, the distance that had been between them was removed. She felt his body, warm, alive and human, come into contact with her own. Within a fraction of a second, she tried to pull back, shocked at what he had just done. They were in public, he could not transform in public. It was only when he hung on, his arms tight around her neck, pulling her to him, so that there was no space whatsoever between their torsos, that her brain clicked, she understood what she was being shown. He had not transformed. It was gone? The curse had been lifted?

"Y-you're free?" She spoke, shocked, into his shoulder, her words being muffled slightly by the fabric of his shirt.

"Yes." He said, holding her even tighter, unable to contain his happiness to just words. She wrapped her own arms around his waist, linking them, a warm jolt sent through her own heart at his simple response. He had been allowed out of his cage, he could do whatever he wished, go wherever he wanted, hold whoever he pleased. Why did that make this goodbye even more bittersweet? She let her head fall and come to rest on his shoulder.

It seemed to remind him why they were at the station. While the day was one of new beginnings, other things were ending.

"I'll… miss you… a great deal, Mitsuru."

She had promised herself that she would not allow herself to be as weak as to cry, but she did not trust her voice enough to reply to his words. She gave a slight nod of her head, burying it further into the fabric of his shirt.

"I will… ring every week." He promised. She knew he would keep his word, but feared it would eventually become nothing but an act of obligation and duty. Perhaps that would be worse than no contact at all.

"Only ring when you want." She said quietly. "Don't feel you have to."

"I'll visit whenever I can, and… and you can come up whenever your work allows."

She nodded again. He seemed desperate for this not to become a sad goodbye, but she could not imagine how it could become anything else.

He continued his almost meaningless jabbering, the words meant little in her ears. Her attention was focused exclusively on the stocky man she could see from over Ritsu's shoulder. She pulled away from her embrace with Ritsu gently. She could seem the little man preparing to blow the whistle, signalling the train's impending departure. The last thing she wanted was to be desperately clinging to Ritsu when, in only a few seconds time, it was time for him to go. What she had to do, her parting words to him, became incredibly clear at that moment. Almost certainly, things would never be the same as they had been between them in those last few months. She had to have him know that the time they had been together, even if it ended up being short lived, meant a great deal.

The stocky man was raising the whistle to his puckered lips.

"Ritsu, I need you to know, because things… will have to be different now. I want you to know that I… I love you. A great deal. I really love you."

Ritsu resembled someone who had just been hit on the back of the head by a tennis ball travelling at speed.

The sharp, shrill, dreaded sound of the whistle blew. This was it. This was goodbye.

The man in front of her did not look like he had recovered from her confession. She had to collect up his bag for him, bustling him gently in the direction of the soon-to-be-closing train doors. He got on in silence, as she stepped away from the doors. Just before they closed, he turned, as if his bearings had only just been collected.

"Oh! Mitsuru, I-I love you, too! Very much!" He smiled at her. There were tears gathered in his eyes, matching her own. This time, she honestly did not know if it were happiness or sadness that caused them.

That was it. The doors closed, and the train pulled away. Mitsuru was left standing alone on the station. It suddenly felt cold. In the air hung the unmistakeable feeling that a last goodbye had just been uttered.


	7. Question

**This is the penultimate part. Thanks to all of those who have read this far, and the wonderful people who have given me kind and helpful reviews along the way. This part is looong. Sorry, I keep doing that in this fic XD**

**DISCLAIMER: This is Natsuki Takaya's world. I just immigrate in now and then.**

* * *

Question

If working with Shigure-sensei for so long had taught her anything, it was not to dwell. If she went home every time, after one of their usual fights to collect a manuscript, and went over again and again in her head what an awful person Shigure was, she would eventually lose it completely. Instead, she would try to restrict her thoughts on the devilish author outside of working hours, with the exception of those of the variety of hoping that he would one day he would realize that writing was not really for him, and switch to drawing comics, or plumbing, or something that would mean she no longer had to spend time with the man.

Her prayer had been answered on this score. Shigure was deeply in love, moving to the main Sohma house to be with the woman of his affection. Which worked out very nicely for Mitsuru. She now spent her time editing for three different authors, Shigure previously having taken up all her time, and each one was as nice, decent and considerate as the next. If a deadline was not met, they would apologize profusely, and vow to do better next time. And they would. Her work life was better than it had been in the two years since Shigure had first strolled into her office.

It was only her home life that was somewhat lacking. She wouldn't let herself dwell, however. She took up a pottery class, although the clay got stuck irritatingly under her nails. She also became an avid viewer of the tacky romance dramas that littered the television schedule. She tried to make sure that every moment of the day, her mind was kept occupied from dwelling on her situation. It would do nothing but make it worse.

Ritsu hadn't lied at the station. He had called every day, regular as clockwork, because that was Ritsu. Devoted and punctual. The phone reception wasn't good, and she attributed it to the remoteness of the onsen, with the mountains interfering with the connection. As he spoke, his voice, though reassuringly familiar, sounded distant, as if he were in some far away country, rather than just a few hours away by train.

They talked as they always had done when they would visit parks and coffee shops together. They stuck to little things. Easy things. Neither party particularly excelled in talking about feelings, or deep subjects, and it would just be uncomfortable and awkward to initiate such a conversation. The calls tended to last no longer than an hour. After a while, there was no small talk left to chatter about, and, to avoid running the risk of having to talk about the big things: where they both stood, how their relationship had changed, and where they saw themselves a year or so from now, they said their goodbyes, and bid each other goodnight.

For this situation, the decision not to dwell seemed a good one. She missed him profusely, but not in the way she expected. It wasn't like in the tragic love affair novels she had read, where the man would go off to war, or on some expedition equally daring and masculine, and the woman would pine at home, crushed by the intensity of her love for her man, missing him until she became physically weak with it.

No, it wasn't like that at all. It would be romanticizing to say that the thing Mitsuru most missed about Ritsu in his absence was being held by him, being kissed by him. It wasn't their romantic relationship she missed the most. She just missed him. Those little things, that to many people would be sources of great annoyance. How he would stutter whenever he felt he was being too pushy. How, whenever they went out, his outfit would often be admired far more by passing women, and men, than hers. How he would call her at lunchtimes, anxiety in his voice, as he invited her out to a coffee shop for lunch, assuring her that she was more than welcome to refuse, although she never did. The little things that she never would have guessed meant so much.

Mitsuru had deliberately not marked on her calendar the day that he had left. She didn't want to give herself the option of becoming obsessive, flipping the pages and counting each little square, representing another day of his absence. It hadn't worked though. The date seemed imprinted in her mind. Sometimes, once she placed the phone down once they had made their pleasant goodbyes, she would count up in her head the days. It surprised her how fast time had gone. In novels, such as that by Shigure Sohma, time would drag when the woman's lover was gone, but Mitsuru didn't find this the case. Time sped by, days blurring into each other, nothing significant enough happening for her to make note of each space of 24 hours. Had it really been 4 months since she had last seen him face-to-face? Had he changed at all in that time? He sounded slightly more confident in himself when she spoke to him on the phone. Was he enjoying his newfound responsibility? The trust his family was now laying upon him? It seemed likely. She could hear it in his voice. He sounded happy.

Mitsuru was happy too. Her professional life was predictable, routine, and she spent most of her days doing real editing work, rather than playing run-around with a certain author. It suited her well. Before meeting Ritsu, she would have been more than content. You can't miss what you haven't had. But she had had him, and so now it was too late. No matter how well she was doing in other areas of her life, she would know there was a piece that was yet to fit. It wasn't like in romance novels. It wasn't good enough to know that he was out there, and that he cared about her. She knew that that should be enough, but it simply wasn't. She wanted to have him close to her, so they could do the couple-ly things that she had never really experienced before. She wanted, for once in her life, to play the part of a woman young and in love. She reminded herself she really should stop watching those mushy dramas.

Most weeknights Mitsuru went straight home from work. She had never been the type to go drinking alone, or the like, and the people at her office were hardly huge party-goers. It was therefore a rare occurrence that one of the junior assistants was throwing a party at the bar closest to the office. Mitsuru's plan has been to stay for half-an-hour or so, for the sake of politeness, and then make her excuses and go. She had never been able to hold her alcohol, anyway.

This well worked out plan, however, disintegrated to dust when a middle aged man sat down beside her, pouring her a plentiful helping of sake, and started jabbering away, expecting responses of no longer than two or three words every now and then. A cheerful, red-faced fellow, she recognized him as someone who worked on the floor above from her own office, but she could not put a name to his face. He seemed to know very well who she was, however, referring to her as 'Mitsuru-chan', being both over-friendly and patronizing at the same time. Her several attempts to get away, before she resigned herself to just sitting and listening, were stopped by him beginning on a new topic. He seemed to have something to say about everything. He also seemed borderline on very drunk before the evening had even begun. By the looks of it, he was drinking something much stronger than what was filling everyone else's glasses.

"You know what every good woman, like you, Mitsuru-chan, needs?"

"What?" She replied, taking cautious sips of the sake, aware that she was nearing towards her limit.

"The love of a good man, that's what. That'd sort you out. Get you smiling."

She turned slightly, her attention more on him than it had been at any time previous that evening.

"What makes you think I need a man to make me smile?" She snapped.

His grin at her response could be described as nothing but slightly lecherous.

"There's no man out there who makes your heart flutter? I find that very hard to believe. Pretty woman like you, you must be bombarded with offers."

She didn't reply.

"See, you know Satomi-chan?" Satomi was the woman who worked in the office opposite Mitsuru's. They had on occasion had lunch together, and were bordering on a friendship.

"Satomi-chan's a dear friend of mine. I've known her since she was just a kid. I asked her if there was a special man in your life, and she tells me that you'd definitely seemed more chirpy recently? A spring in your step? Like anything the world could throw at you, you could handle? All that to me adds up to a woman in love."

"Actually," Mitsuru couldn't imagine she would ever be agreeing to sit down to lunch with Satomi again, "Just recently I've been freed from being editor for Sohma-sensei. No doubt you've heard what a handful he could be."

"Is that right?" He didn't look convinced, instead, he winked at her, then occupied himself with taking a large and sloppy gulp of his sake.

"I'd better be going." Mitsuru said, taking hold of her opportunity to escape. As she left, the party still in full swing, she didn't like to admit how shaken she'd been at his words. Could it really have been THAT obvious? At least nobody had told her she seemed excessively depressed now, jumping to the conclusion that whoever she had given her heart to had left her cruelly heartbroken.

The cool night air did little to soothe her thoughts as she made the short trek home, her path swaying slightly as she walked, addled with sake, and a rather sudden desperation to call Ritsu when she reached her apartment. What would she say, though? She would be calling him late at night, and for what? So they could talk about inane things that simply didn't matter. No, she couldn't justify calling him. Her pace slowed. The shoes she was wearing did not have high heels, but enough of a wedge that she twisted her ankle several times as she walked. She wondered how some people could drink such vast quantities of alcohol every weekend.

The street around her was desolate and silent, lit only by streetlamps. She was just thinking how peaceful the world was at night, when her phone broke the tranquillity, piercing it with a loud and annoying ringtone that had been set as default on the phone. She scrambled around in her practical brown handbag for a moment before she located the vibrating device.

"H-hello?" She gasped into it.

"Mitchan!" The voice on the other end was enough to make her see clearly through her drunken haze. She could feel her blood start to heat up and boil over at the very sound of it,

"Sensei."

"Uh-uh, Mitchan, not anymore. It's just Shigure now. We don't need that formality any more, do we? I mean, we're almost family!"

How she loathed, loathed, that man.

"What is it you're calling about, Shigure-san?" She asked, "I do need to get some sleep tonight, you know." She didn't work with him anymore. There seemed little point being professional and polite. Why shouldn't she be allowed to express how much she hated the man?

"Well, the thing is, Mitchan… I have a monkey on my back." His attempts at humour did nothing but remind her just how glad she was she no longer had to work with him.

"What do you mean?"

"It's an idiom, Mitchan, a figure of speech meaning that I have a serious problem."

"Yes, I know-"

"You see, there's something of an emergency situation over here. Can you come over? Haa-san's already here, but it would be good if you were too. Just in case things take a turn for the worse."

With that, he hung up, with no further explanation. She was left, standing in the middle of the pavement, unsure of what to do. Chances were, this was just a game he was playing, a sort of farewell gift for her to remember him by, before he moved to the Sohma main house for good.

She wanted to just continue on her way, go back to her apartment, perhaps pour out a small glass of red wine to get her settled for the night, then a steamy bath with some relaxing music. Why couldn't she just do that? Was it really too much to ask? The chances are, this was just going to be some joke on Shigure's part. After all, they had no real connection any more. There was no problem he could have that would concern her. He just wanted to have some fun, albeit his own sick and twisted brand of it.

Her feet remained rooted for a moment. Most of her was resolute on just pretending she had never received a phone call, and continuing on her way. It was just a small voice, niggling at the back of her head that was causing her indecision. Surely it would just be irritating not to go? She would be wondering what it was, what his problem was. It would likely keep her tossing and turning most of the night anyway. She never could sleep when there was something preying on her mind…

She turned on her heel uncharacteristically decisively, and made her way in the opposite direction.

Half an hour and a late-night bus journey later, Mitsuru stood at the door of the house she had been directed to by a lady at the front gate of the enormous Sohma compound. Apparently Shigure was waiting for her there, with a man called Hatori-sensei. Had Shigure dragged one of his friends in for whatever prank it was that was very likely to be played on her? No doubt this Hatori man would be just as evil as Shigure himself.

"Mitchan!" The screen door in front of her slid open before she had even had a chance to announce her presence. "So glad you decided to come! Did you think about not coming? I bet you did! I don't see why. I think it's more than time for us to have a little reunion!" Shigure laughed joyously, and she was more convinced than ever that this was all just a joke. How could she have been as stupid as to fall victim to him once again? Why would she never learn? Would she be so gullible all of her life?

"Just let her in, Shigure." A deep man's voice said from inside. She assumed that it must be that of Hatori. At least he sounded a reasonable human being, unlike Shigure.

"Yes, sir, Hatori-sensei." Shigure said, with a mock salute, standing aside to let Mitsuru in.

The room was dimly lit, with only a table lamp on the desk providing light for the entire room. However, it was clear that she was standing inside some kind of doctor's surgery. Did the Sohma's even have their own private doctors? They really were an amazing family, she thought.

"He was asking for you, but he's asleep now. I had to give him some antibiotics to clear up the infection in his chest, and it's very normal for them to make you drowsy." Hatori said. Mitsuru could easily see he was a relative of Shigure's. They looked very alike, except Hatori was possibly slightly taller, and his face was far more serious and trustable. However, his words seemed to make no sense.

"Um, I'm sorry?" Mitsuru said, tentatively making her way closer to Hatori, "I'm not sure I know-"

"You did tell her what's happened?" He asked, directing an intense gaze at Shigure, who was hovering at her shoulder.

"I didn't want to alarm her." He said cheerfully, making it more than obvious that he wanted to keep her guessing, and therefore worrying.

Hatori sighed, a sound of disgust at his relative.

"Ritsu had quite a severe cold when he left the onsen early this morning, according to his mother." Hatori started. Mitsuru's heart jumped. "As far as we can gather from what he was saying when he arrived here, he waited outside your apartment for several hours this evening, and his cold got steadily worse during this time. He just about managed to drag himself over here before collapsing with a very high fever and exhaustion."

The blood seemed cold in Mitsuru's veins. Ritsu was sick, and it was all her fault. If she had just stayed home that evening, he wouldn't have been waiting around in the cold night air, and his illness wouldn't have progressed to anything worse than a cold.

"I-is he okay?" She asked, "Can I see him?"  
"I put him on the sofa in my living room." Hatori said, indicating a room that likely lead into the doctor's actual house. "Feel free to go through."

She tripped over her own feet in her haste, and Shigure snickered behind her. She was too filled with concern to feel incensed by him.

"R-Ritsu?" She said, as she closed the door behind her, her eyes falling immediately onto the expensive looking brown leather couch. Ritsu lay on it, curled slightly to fit his entire frame onto it. He had only a light cotton blanket placed over him, but she could see the beads of sweat on his face.

"Ritsu." She repeated again, as she got closer. She could feel a lump building in her throat. "I'm so sorry…"

He mumbled in his deep sleep, his face contorting at whatever dream he was having. She knelt beside him, and brushed some ginger-brown strands of hair away from his hot face.

"I'm sorry." She said again, laying her arm near his head and resting her chin on it. She could feel the heat from him in the short distance between his face and hers. "This is all my fault."

She felt like crying, but didn't think she could handle the merciless teasing from Shigure if she did so. Instead, she stayed in her position for what could have been hours, or only minutes, the image of Ritsu before her becoming more and more blurred as she let herself fall into the depths of sleep herself.

* * *

"Ah, Mitsuru?" A surprised voice woke her from her dreams. She felt disorientated for a moment, before her mind had time to piece back together for her where she was and what she was doing there. It came back to her in a flood of guilt. However, as she raised her head, stretching her shoulders from where they had become stiff and painful, she realised that Ritsu was the one who had spoken. He was sitting up, blanket pushed off, looking shocked at her unexpected presence. She noted that he was wearing a light shirt and trousers. He had even gone to the effort of wearing men's clothes to come and see her. She felt another stab of guilt.

"Mitsuru? Did Hatori-niisan call you here? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to inconvenience you! Making you come here! I'm so sorry, I-"

"Don't apologize, Ritsu. It's me that needs to apologize. I'm so sorry I wasn't home, when you were sick and everything. You should have told me you were coming, although when you were sick… you shouldn't have put your health in jeopardy like this."

"I… wanted to see you. I'm sorry." He hung his head, looking away.

Mitsuru could feel hot tears building in her eyes.

"Why did you come all the way here, Ritsu, especially as you were so ill?"

"I missed you." He replied immediately, turning back to her, "I'm sorry, but… I'm sorry, it was never… the same. Whenever I phoned, it just wasn't… I needed to see you."

She wanted to hug him, and had to remind herself that she could now. There was no curse stopping her. She dragged herself onto the couch next to him, and put her arms around his neck, pulling him towards her. The warmth of his body-heat, absent for so many months, felt like relieving ice on a burn. She hadn't realised quite how much she had missed this, the close physical contact. It had always been a rather minor element in their relationship yet it was nice to have it back.

"I've missed you too." She said quietly. "We'll work something out… so we can see each other more often." It was a false platitude she was offering him. She couldn't get the time off work, and he couldn't get the time off at the onsen. Just as she had thought, they were drifting apart, even if neither of them wanted it.

"Ah." He pulled away from her, his eyes alight but he seemed nervous and jittery. "I… I've been thinking about that a lot too… and I know… what I'm going to ask is unforgivable… and if you say no, of course, I expect you to say no, after all who would want to accept… so please, I'm sorry-" He jabbered, not making eye contact, his hair falling over his still slightly red face.

"What is it?" Mitsuru could feel her heart jump in her chest, and she wasn't quite sure why.

"I.. I talked to my parents, and they would… they'd be happy..." He breathed in, closing his eyes, before releasing the air in one gasp of, "Would you like to come and live at the onsen?"

There was silence for a moment, shock seemed to hang in the air. She hadn't known what to expect, but it definitely hadn't been that.

The small, romantic part of Mitsuru's brain wanted her to accept without a second thought, throw her arms around her lover's neck once again, and have her bags and old life packed up by next morning. However, this part was heavily outweighed by the depressing, reality-loving part of her mind. She couldn't just pack up and go, could she? She knew what it would mean to live at the onsen. They'd be no other jobs available to her but to work as the mistress of the onsen. Could she really feel fulfilled doing that? It was not at all how she had imagined her life when she had been younger. She'd always thought that she'd have a steady job, much like that of an editor, and that would be that. Working in a traditional onsen in the middle of nowhere, alongside her higher class cross-dressing boyfriend with the same tendency to panic as herself definitely hadn't been figured into the equation.

"I-I'm sorry, Mitsuru, for springing it on you like this." Ritsu said, his eyes full of sorrow. "I've made you uncomfortable. I'm sorry. I was presumptuous, when I had no right to be. I'm very sorry. Just please, forget I said anything, but don't feel obliged to forgive me. I'm so sorry."

"I… don't know what to say." Mitsuru started, ignoring his apologies, "Of course I want to… be closer to you, so we can see each other… I-"

"No, please, Mitsuru, please don't try and spare my feelings. You don't want to, and that's fine. I'm sorry I asked so rudely." He smiled at her, as attempt to reassure her it seemed, but it did nothing but make her heart even more uneasy.

"I do want to." She countered immediately, her mind and heart sparring within herself. Which did she love most, Ritsu or her old life? It seemed that, even if she put it off, inevitably she would have to choose. Would postponing the inevitably ultimately just make it worse?

Maybe, just once, she would let that small part of her win, the part that was speaking from her heart, from what she wanted, rather than what made sense. Indeed, she liked her job. She liked her apartment. She liked the routine that was her life. But what she felt for Ritsu was more than just like. More than just a general appreciation and sense of contentment. He, somehow, sometime, had come to mean more to her than anything else she could think of. Would she be able to forgive herself if she just let him go? What is he was the love of her life? People always said that you only had one soulmate, if such a thing existed. Could she be foolish enough to let that slip away from her? Let it fade into the mist and the steam of the humid onsen?

"Ritsu," She said, with sudden determination that her rational head screamed against, "Yes. The onsen… Yes, I'd like it a lot."


	8. Proposal

**Here it is, the last part. I think this point in their relationship is a pretty good place to end this fic. I never thought that this fic would be as long as it is, actually, so I surprised myself! Thanks to all of the readers and reviewers that have read this, you guys rock! And remember, if you feel so inclined, write your own Ritsu/Mitsuru ficcage! I think they're one of the most underappreciated 'ships in the entire Fruits Basket fandom. **

**Random note for this last part: Okami-san (Ritsu mother) doesn't feature in this part. I don't know why I didn't write her in... It would have made sense to. By this time, I don't think Ritsu is fully in charge of the onsen, so she is still around... somewhere.**

**Thanks again, guys!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fruits Basket. Natsuki Takaya does. Because she's just awesome like that.**

**Proposal**

"Ritchan?" Kagura called from the small decorative garden of the onsen. Ritsu emerged from the traditional Japanese style building, an armful of pretty furisode in his grasp.

"I think…" Ritsu puffed, "These are the last of them."

"Ooh." Kagura squealed, moving to take the bundle, and laying them on the wooden decking she had herself been seated on a moment before.

"This blue one is _gorgeous,"_ She breathed, "How do you manage to find such beautiful clothes, Ritchan? Whenever I try to buy a yukata or furisode, I always find it ends up looking tacky and cheap."

Ritsu smiled, choosing not to answer. This was the last part of who he had been. He was letting go, and it felt good. He wouldn't let himself hide behind the flimsy wall of women's clothing again. In future, he vowed, he would be a stronger and better person all by his own courage… however small that may be.

"You're really giving it all up?" Kagura was no longer looking at the expensive fabrics in her arms, but at the man in front of her. There was something that sounded a little like pride in her voice. He was reminded just how lucky he was to have such a lovely relative.

"I hope it's for real," She smiled at him, "Because your hair is going to take a long time to grow back to what it was."

That had been a challenge. The cutting of his hair. Asking his long-time hairdresser for a man's style… All of his life he had had long hair. It felt light and free, and definitely helped people to not mistake him for a woman, but still… he couldn't help but feel a sense of loss at it.

"I liked your hair long," Kagura continued, "Not to say that this haircut isn't handsome." She smiled at him, and he smiled back.

"Thank you."

"Has Mitsuru-san seen yet?"

He shook his head. When he had left the onsen that morning on an 'errand', he hadn't told her of what he truly planned to do. He had wanted to surprise her, although he felt incredibly guilty for having to lie to her. He almost gave up and confessed just before he stepped out of the door, when suddenly his mother ordered Mitsuru to pick up a bouquet of flowers from the florist in the next town. She would be gone at least all morning.

He hoped she'd forgive him for his deceit enough to enjoy the surprise. Although it was not for her that he was giving up his previous lifestyle and dress-sense, she had played a huge part in the building of his confidence to the level where he believed he could do this. Be strong. Be a man.

Kagura knelt down in front of the decking on which she had laid the furisode. She fiddled absently with the silky fabric, running it between her fingers.

"Hey, do you think Kyo will be back yet?"

Kyo and Tohru, along with Yuki and Machi, had been invited by Kagura to spend a long weekend at the onsen. Ritsu was still not entirely sure of Kagura's intention behind it. She seemed visibly uncomfortable, and angered, to see Kyo and Tohru's couple-y behaviour.

"How long ago did they all set off on their walk?" Ritsu asked, "About half an hour ago?"

"Mmm." Kagura agreed, "I don't think they'll go the whole route you told them about though. I can't imagine Kyo and Yuki managing to stay civil in each other's company that long."

Ritsu smiled slightly, and it had a sense of sadness in it. While it was true that Kyo and Yuki obviously still weren't best friends, they had learnt to rub along together, and had grown a mutual respect for each other. Without a doubt, this was the doings of Tohru Honda. Kagura still seemed somewhat in denial that anything had changed, though. Perhaps she wanted things to go back to how they always had been.

"Hey, Ritchan?" Kagura said quietly, after a moment's contemplative silence, "Do you think that Kyo and Tohru will eventually… get married?"

From just the single day that the pair had spent at the onsen together, Ritsu felt it was almost inevitable that they would marry when they felt the time was right. He nodded slowly, thinking out his next words carefully, so as not to put any salt on what was a very raw wound for Kagura.

"I think… they would be very happy married to each other. They seem to get along very well."

"Hmm." Kagura said, "I guess. I guess it doesn't matter either way though."

"It doesn't?"  
"No…" She sighed, "It's got nothing to do with me anymore. Kyo's got nothing to do with me anymore."  
It seemed that she had finally given up on her one-sided love. Although he would never tell her so, he couldn't help but believe that it was for the best. So she would eventually find someone who would love her above all others, and she wouldn't have to threaten them with violence just to receive the barest touch of physical affection.

"What are you going to-"

"Right now, I'm focusing on my work," She cut across him, "Now I'm done with college, it's time for me to start climbing the job ladder. I want to move out within the next few months."  
"Oh, that's good."

"But what about you, Ritchan?" Kagura said suddenly, a brightness now in her tone that matched the glinting in her eyes. "When are you and Mitsuru going to get married?"

"M-married?" He repeated immediately, feeling a cold sweat run over him. He hadn't dared to let himself think of such a thing. It was amazing, astounding, that she had agreed to leave her work and come and live at the onsen. To request that she permanently bind herself to him with marriage… he couldn't possibly ask something so direct and forward. There was no way she would say 'yes' in any case. Surely there were hundreds, if not thousands, of men who would love her and care for her and simply be a better husband to her than him. If she could have any one of them, the chance that she would choose him was simply unimaginable. He didn't dare let his mind wander there, for fear of just setting himself up for a crushing disappointment.

"Of course." Kagura continued, oblivious to his plight, "You love her, and she loves you? What more possibly is there?"

Indeed, he knew without a shadow of doubt that the bold feelings he had inside himself for her was utter love. It was like an inner warmth that touched beyond what the physical elements could reach. It seemed to capture his very soul.

Kagura was right on the second score, too. Although both too shy to say the 'L' word to each other on a very regular basis, when one or the other was going on a trip that would take them away for a day a more, it would generally come up. When he thought about it, although Mitsuru didn't say it a lot, sentimental emotions not being her speciality, she had told him that she loved him a good few times. And Mitsuru didn't lie, or say things for the sake of it.

He loved her, and she loved him. Kagura had a point. When people usually found themselves in such a situation, they would get married and live happily together as man and wife. But… could he and Mitsuru really do that? Just the thought of asking her… it seemed to spur his heart into hyper drive.

"Ah! We're back!" A voice said suddenly, jolting Ritsu back to reality. He turned to see the four guests join himself and Kagura in the decorative garden.

"Welcome back!" Ritsu said, standing up. "How was your walk?"

"Wonderful!" Tohru said, her face glowing as she stood beside Kyo, who himself seemed to be restraining a smile. Their hands were twined together, and Kagura looked away.

"Yes, it was a pretty route." Yuki agreed. "Although I don't know_ everyone_ was dressed for the occasion." He turned to Machi, who had her arms folded across her chest at his mock jibe.

"I didn't realise it was going to be muddy." She said.

Looking down at Machi's feet, it was obvious that open-toed sandals probably didn't fare the best in the sometimes very muddy conditions around the lake.

"I'm very sorry." Ritsu bowed to her in apology, "I should have told you. I didn't think… I-"

"It's doesn't matter." Machi said quickly. She had been present at a couple of Ritsu's apology sessions already.

"I _did _offer you a piggyback ride across the worst of the mud." Yuki said, smiling at her, his eyes teasing.

She ignored him, turning away, although there was a tell-tale smile playing on her lips.

It looked like perhaps there would be another wedding in the Sohma family in the not too distant future.

* * *

A few hours passed in which the guests, including Kagura, had time to relax, play ping pong, and bathe in the springs before dinner was served.

Ritsu stood in the slightly cramped kitchen as the chef delivered the dishes to the low table the five guests were sitting at. As much as he tried not to think of it, he couldn't help but let his mind dwell over what Kagura had said about him marrying Mitsuru. What if… it wasn't as impossible at he thought? After all, his mother seemed to very much think that they were going to be married. Much to his embarrassment, the day before Mitsuru moved into the onsen, his mother gave him his grandmother's ring, telling him to 'keep it safe'. Although she didn't say anything explicitly, it was obvious who she thought he would be giving it to.

"Hi!" Mitsuru greeted him brightly, entering the kitchen suddenly with a bouquet of expensive-looking flowers held in her arms. "Oh, wow." She looked stunned for a moment, and it took Ritsu as long to work out what was surprising to her.

"You… cut your hair?"

He nodded, "Is it… okay?"

"It looks very handsome!" She looked almost awestruck. "You look very handsome!"

It seemed it would take a while for him to get used to people referring to him as 'handsome' rather than 'beautiful' or 'pretty'.

There was the same pride in her eyes that he had seen earlier in Kagura as she asked:

"Has everything been okay here while I've been gone?"

"Huh? Yes, sorry, yes, fine!" He felt slightly flustered as he looked at her. He could think of nothing but marriage. Mitsuru looked slightly questioning at his stuttering, something he rarely did around her anymore, unless under a lot of stress and worry. Just seeing her in person was enough to frighten him away from Kagura's suggestion even further. The idea of… proposing marriage was scary enough, but to actually do it in reality… was that something he could manage? It would take a huge amount of courage, likely more than he had. He wanted it, quite unexpectedly, more than anything else. Now that Kagura has presented the idea, it was like an ache had opened in his chest, one that had been hidden from feeling before by his refusal to let such potentially disastrous thoughts cross into his conscious mind.

"That's good." She continued, "Are all the guests settled in? It's so nice to see Tohru-san again. She's such a nice girl. She was always so kind when I had to go pick up…" She trailed off, closing her eyes and forcing herself to breathe calmly through her nose.

"Yes!" Ritsu agreed hurriedly. Although it had been more than half a year since Mitsuru had had to work with Shigure, it was still something of a touchy subject, that was best to avoid. "And Machi, too, Yuki's girlfriend. I'd never met her before now, but she seems also very nice."

"The wonders of love, eh? It's really quite astounding how deeply in love both the boys are at their young age." She said, smiling at the thought. She pulled Ritsu into a fleeting one-arm hug before she rooted in the cupboard under the sink for a clean vase for the requested flowers she had spent most of her day retrieving.

"Uh… Mitsuru?" Dare he ask such a bold question? It wasn't as big as The Question, but it still felt frighteningly forward. "Do you think we're deeply in love?"

Mitsuru turned her head sharply, looking more than surprised. She almost dropped the intricate clear glass vase that she had just taken out from one of the back corners of the cupboard.

"Well… of course… I think we are, anyway." She looked squarely at him, "Do you not, then?"

"W-what? No... No, I mean yes, I do, I really do. I think we're deeply in love, very much so!" He tried to smile to hide his awkwardness, but it faltered, showing nothing but his anxiety.

"Has… something happened?" She placed the vase and bouquet down on the scrubbed work-counter, next to the sink, and stepped slowly towards Ritsu.

"Happened? No." He shook his head immediately. It felt strange to not have his long locks rubbing against his neck as he did so.

"Are you worried about… our relationship? I'm sorry… if there's something that I'm doing wrong, just tell me and I'll-"  
"No!" He said immediately. He couldn't let Mitsuru pile the blame on herself for his own weakness. "You're… you're perfect. Far more than I could ever deserve. I'm so sorry that I'm not better…"

She sighed lightly. "Don't start that, Ritsu, please. You're far more than worthy, and I feel so lucky that I'm your girlfriend."

"Do you ever think… you could find a better boyfriend? Someone not so shameful as me?" He asked tentatively, "Because I wouldn't mind… I want you to be happy, even if it's not with me… Of course, I'd rather that it was, but-"

"Hey." Mitsuru said. She stepped closer, and placed a hand securely on his forearm. "If I thought I'd find someone better for me than you, I wouldn't be here. You understand me. I feel like we're on entirely the same level, our minds work in similar ways… I couldn't have created from scratch someone I'd rather be with than you."

He'd often thought along the same lines about her. Although, of course, she was a wonderful person, while he had many failings. They seemed to see the world through similar eyes, and understood each other's emotions, emotions expressed in such ways as alarmed most other people. In short, if there was such a thing as soulmates, it was likely that they were very close to it.

"What's brought this on?" Mitsuru asked. Her eyes were so warm, and her face was so patient. He couldn't lie to her, tell her it was nothing.

"It was just… something that Kagura-chan said earlier… about us."  
"What did she say?" Mitsuru asked. "Was it something bad?"  
"No! No, not at all." Now he was making Kagura sound like a bad person. He really was unforgivable.

"What, then?"

"She was just talking… about Kyo and Tohru, whether they would get married anytime, and said I thought they would…" He was careful to keep his voice down, so that Tohru and Kyo in the next room couldn't hear his speculation.

"Oh… well, yes, I think from what I've seen, that's very likely…" She was scanning his face, obviously looking for clues of what he was going to say next.

He could feel his cheeks were burning, and he couldn't meet her eye. Could he really do it… say what Kagura had asked? What if she hated him afterwards? It was a very real possibility but… she might also, though he didn't want to let his heart get its hopes up, not mind the idea of marrying him completely…

"And from Kyo and Tohru," He breathed in deeply, so he could say the next words in a rush, to get them over with, "Kagura asked about when we would get married."

There was a moment's silence in the kitchen, when only the relaxed chatter from the next room could be heard.

"Oh… and… what did you say?" Mitsuru asked. Glancing up, he could see her cheeks were red too.

"I said that I couldn't possibly contemplate such a thing! To think that you would ever agree to marry someone like me… it's unthinkable! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have even told you now. I've done nothing but make you uncomfortable! I'm so sorry! I shouldn't be allowed to speak! I deserve to be punished! I'm so sorry!"

"Would you… not want to marry me?" Mitsuru asked cautiously.

He was cut off from his stream of apologies, and looked at her, shocked.

"Of course! Of course, I would be honoured, completely honoured above everything else… but I just couldn't-"

"Because… I would like to marry you. I'd be 'completely honoured' to marry you, too."

Neither of them could meet each other's eyes for a moment. They were both the colour of tomatoes.

Ritsu suddenly moved, leaving the kitchen in a few strides, calling over his shoulder,

"Please, Mitsuru, stay there for just a minute. I'm sorry, I'll just be a moment!"

Where was this sudden warm confidence that seemed to have taken temporary residence in his heart coming from? Was it because she had said that she wouldn't mind marrying him? That she didn't hate him for all the things he had said, even though he had suggested something as forward and irreversible as marriage?

He reached his own private room in the onsen that had been his bedroom since he had been born. He knew exactly where it was. His mother had told him to take care of it, her knowing only too well how clumsy her shameless son was.

He opened the drawer of the desk by the window, and found tucked in the corner the worn velvet box. He brought it out carefully, as if it were made of the finest delicate crystal. He knew if he stopped at that moment, with the box held in his hand, giving himself a chance to think of the enormity of what he was about to do… he would be unable to do it. Instead, his forced himself out of his room, closing the sliding door firmly behind him, for the symbolism of 'no going back'.

Mitsuru was still standing in almost exactly the same position in the kitchen as he arrived back. She didn't turn as he entered the room. By the looks of it, she was just as nervous as he was.

"Ah… Mitsuru?" He said, as he came to stand once again where he had been only minutes before. "I want… need to show you something." He held out his hand, with the box perched on his palm.

He heard her breathe inwardly at the sight of it.

"Please… open it."

She did as he asked. He saw her hands were shaking. He had no idea how his own were so still.

"I-it's beautiful…" She said. The ring was, indeed, very beautiful. Ritsu's grandfather, the purchaser of it, had been the one who had made the onsen so successful, with his exquisite eye for beauty and excellence. Of course, he had never like Ritsu a great deal.

"Mitsuru… I'm sorry that this is so terribly forward, and it's okay if you… if you say no! Please, don't feel you have to be polite to spare me feelings, I'll understand. In fact, I expect it! I'm so sorry that I-"  
"You haven't asked yet, so you don't know what I'll say." Mitsuru said, her voice shaking. Her eyes found his, and it spilled out before he could help himself.

"Will you, uh, will you… marry me?" Ritsu was sure at that moment that if his heart was beating any faster, it would find its way out of his chest cavity.

Mitsuru smiled, first slightly, then broadly, and Ritsu found himself doing the same. Her eyes flickered from the beautiful ring to the formerly beautiful, now handsome, man in front of her.

"Yes." She said uncharacteristically confidently, "Ritsu, I would love to marry you."

In a heartbeat, before either of them had time to register in their brains, Ritsu had put his arms around Mitsuru, pulling her into a tight hug.

"T-thank you." He stuttered. There were tears in his eyes. He felt a happiness unlike anything he had experienced before settle in his gut. He could feel the wetness of her own tears on his shirt. It seemed that she was going through a similar set of emotions.

"I love you." She mumbled into his shirt. "So much."

He kissed her head gently, savouring the moment so much better than any other he could think of.

"I love you, too."

* * *


End file.
